Sparks
by lianthuss
Summary: "We saw each other as distant peers, almost strangers, but that wasn't the end of our story. Did my lonely soul call to you? Did your feelings of homelessness reach out to me? If someone hadn't left that cardboard box... if I'd just walked past it... would we still have called to each other in a different way?" Elsamaren, Modern AU.
1. Verse 1: Dreamlover

**Summary:**

Smart, successful, and good-looking, Elsa Larsen is often labeled as the "perfect" woman. Coming from a prestigious background, she's a coordinator of an esteemed school at 28.

Life seemed good for her until she discovers her fiancé's cheating and rumors of it spread at work, hurting her pride, image, and her feelings. Dejected, Elsa returns home lonely.

Things take a turn for the better when she takes Maren in, a homeless dancer who works under her as a class assistant, with energy that puts a bounce in her step and a shake in her hips. It takes two to tango, but when Elsa's first love reappears in her life, will this be the last waltz?

Last edited on: October 28th, 2020

* * *

**Verse 1: Dreamlover**

"Five, six, seven eight! Five, six, seven eight!"

Maren is in a trance. Her muscles throb with the R&B bass that reverberates in the practice room. The melody drives her in every slow drop with sharp and sensual transitions of lunges and isolation sets.

_Wondering why, why, why..._

With three steps forward, her arms pump evocatively with each beat, as they rise and wave in a circular motion above her. _Not too powerful. Focus on the fluidity._

Two chest pops precede a series of arm and body waves towards the left, downward. _Don't rush it._

_Better let go of your pride_

_Do it now, just do it now, oh yeah_

She is so deep in the moment that it takes her several seconds to realize that the track has already ended.

Everyone in her group is already scurrying around to go home. Jolting herself up, she fixes her sweaty bangs and prepares to head off.

"Maren, just a sec!"

Stopping her tracks for a moment, Maren turns around to meet her group's lead choreographer, Rapunzel. Or Punz, as the brunette insisted on being called.

"Great job today!" Punz grins. "You're syncing so well with our sets and you're only like what, around two weeks in? No kidding, I'm really glad I had you sign with us, makes me optimistic for Ahtohallan's future!"

Maren scratches her head, embarrassed, though she gives a grateful smile.

"Yeah, will be two by tomorrow I guess? Thanks," Maren smirks.

"Well, I sure can't wait for us to do a lot of cool gigs in the long run together! We actually have one more girl joining the team, and she's uh-mazing. Gonna introduce her later in the week, and your group will be pretty much complete!" Punz clasps her hands together.

While Punz can be a bundle of nerves, her friendly nature has been a relief to Maren's homesickness. Feeling grateful, Maren returns a smile. "Can't wait," she replies as her eye catches the time on the room's wall.

_Shoot!_

"I gotta run, I'll see you tomorrow!" Rushing off with quick goodbyes, Maren heads off to the city subway.

* * *

Climbing out the busy stairs towards the exit of her stop, Maren takes in the noise she has grown to love with neon colors on electronic billboards her eyes seem to never tire of. The aroma of freshly made kebab from kiosks rejuvenates her spirits as she heads into the city.

Arendale, the capital of the Northern States. It boasts its bright lights and bustling streets, from its shopping centers of high fashion brands to skyscrapers that hold reputable companies of different sizes. It might as well be the center of the world, as some would say. For a performer, making a name of your own is one of the biggest dreams one could have. Its performing arts industry is competitive and renowned for being world-class.

Maren was enticed by this, taking the plunge to make it happen. Dance is her calling. It took her a while to find her focus, but as soon as she had the epiphany, she set her eyes on the biggest stage in the country.

Stumbling upon the small budding company of Ahtohallan was a miracle. Its hybrid nature of R&B, hip hop, and modern dance appealed most to her. She found it struggling amid fifty studios, but it's almost guaranteed to rise in reputation thanks to new talents joining this autumn under Punz's wing.

Walking off from the station with her earphones on, Maren crosses towards the block of her apartment, feeling the environment around her to be surreal. She wonders when it would sink in.

Her apartment is nothing close to fancy. It's old, located in one of the poorer suburban neighborhoods on the southwestern side of the city. The ragged complex, which is a thirty-minute subway trip from Ahtohallan's studio, is managed by a grumpy landlord who's making her reconsider her stay.

She brushes the thought away. What matters is the cheap rent.

Maren paces up the steps to her door. She tries to remember a minor worry she tucked away at the back of her mind. Was it about school loans? Or that call she had from home—no, she was supposed to forget that one.

It continues to pester her until it materializes in the form of a paper inserted at her door's opening. _Shit_. Maren's nerves return as she fumbles in unlocking her door.

It's the second time she receives the overdue notice, and the last phone call with the landlord didn't go well. Sighing, Maren enters the small room and flops on her bed, drowning in her thoughts.

_So it's not gonna be enough?_ Or is she being naive? She's more than willing to commit to grinding if that's what it takes, but if she will be homeless in the middle of it (again), she will have to pack her bags and go back to North Uldra.

Grunting, she gets up and changes into her sleepwear, letting her exhaustion take over.

* * *

_Fweeeeep!_

The sound of Maren's whistle breaks through the squeaks of shoes in movement. It's the last PE class of the day for her afternoon schedule.

The routine of a teacher assistant isn't so bad when she's on the move most of the time. She was picky about it when looking for a second job. It doesn't pay that well but it's been helping her get by.

Maren feels lucky. Looking for a flexible day job in Arendale is never easy.

Besides, though Corona High's school complex is small for a public one, it holds a reputation, the type that will look good on anyone's CV. Maren takes pride in being part of the staff despite being just a part-time assistant.

The thought brings her back to her unstable living situation. She doesn't want to go back home and lose these opportunities if she's forced to leave Arendale.

"Hellooo, Earth to Maren!", an enthusiastic voice brings her out of her thoughts. Maren turns to face Flynn, a tall, dark-haired guy in his early thirties with a good heart and a charming face. As the head PE teacher, Flynn has been guiding Maren since her first day.

"I was asking if you got anything on your mind because you were kinda spaced out during the last class. The entire time you had this face on," Flynn gives her a blank impression. "Not what I expect from your usual feistiness."

Maren lets out a small chuckle and gives him a light jab. "I'm fine, sorry. Just… got a lot of things in my mind. Pain in the ass money stuff. Student loans and all that… got a little late with rent." Her brows furrow, feeling awkward with the topic. Everyone's got their situations to deal with, making Maren feel alone.

Flynn shoots her a sympathetic look. "Sorry to hear that, kid. It never gets easier. You'll be fine though, right? Will you make it to the next payment?"

"Yeah, I should be able to in three days, just a day before the next deadline," Maren says with a sigh. "Though to be honest, I wouldn't be this worried if my landlord wasn't such an asshole. And apparently, a racist too, based on our last phone call." She adds with a bitter note.

The pair arrive at the faculty hall of the sophomore department. Flynn opens the door for them to the half-filled and open-spaced staff room. They continue to chat for a bit as they walk towards their desks.

"Even with the short time we've known each other, I know you're tough and stubborn, so I'm not too worried. Don't let it get to you, okay? Man, I hate those racist dickheads. More of them have been pulling out their ugly asses lately. I bet you this city's stench would go down by a quarter the sooner we get rid of them."

Maren is about to throw him a snicker when they hear the clearing of a throat behind them. She doesn't have to wait to turn around, expecting sharp azure eyes in their direction. "Language, Mr. Rider," a stoic voice utters.

Their department's head coordinator heads towards their desks. Her platinum blond hair sways in its usual bun as she walks closer, with strands of bangs falling on her forehead, framing a beautiful face by convention. Before the pair can even reply, she turns to head into her office, an inner room with glassed windows inside their staff space.

As the door closes from the inside, Maren and Flynn burst into a fit of giggles as they sit on their respective desks.

Elsa Larsen is a force to be reckoned with. Maren knows the popular story: at twenty-eight, she is the youngest coordinator in Corona High who manages the entire sophomore program. She's one of the biggest reasons behind the school's reputation, ever since she joined its faculty four years ago and climbed her way to her current role.

Including today, Maren can count their encounters on one hand, but she's not complaining. Elsa is popular for another thing: her critical and no-nonsense personality. She's seen it herself, confrontations that either turn ugly or just straight-up awkward. For that, Maren's more than content maintaining their distance.

The vibration on her desk pulls her away from her thoughts. Grimacing at the caller's name on her phone, she slides the green symbol and puts the phone on her ear, getting up from her desk to find privacy. There's some slight chattering in the staff room, which turns into background noise as she listens to words from the other end.

Words that drown the world around her into a buzz, as she digests them with a painful realization.

* * *

_You've got to be kidding me._

"Please, you can't do this Mr. Clayton! You can't just evict me out of nowhere, this isn't legal! I really would have the money in three days! I don't understand why you're doing this, I still have the right to extend until the deadli—"

"I don't give a fuck. We're going by my rules as this is my apartment, my property." Merciless eyes stare down at her with the point of a demeaning finger.

Maren hates that she's almost pleading at this heartless asshole.

"Two strikes, girl. I already gave you that one chance. Really, I should have known, especially with the likes of you! God help me, don't make me call the cops on ya!"

_Holy shit._ Maren stares back in disbelief, boiling with silent anger that's threatening to erupt from her core. "You know what," Maren announces. "Sure, I'll leave this rotting shithole." Before Clayton could throw back a retort she jolts into her room and scrambles to pack. Thankfully, she didn't invest much in furnishing.

It's going to be a long night nonetheless.

* * *

Maren glances at her old watch. It's late, just a quarter past ten in the evening. Exhausted from walking around in mild shock, she sits at a bench on the subway station while clutching her sports bag and suitcase.

She's at a crossroads. She can either hop on this train to go back to North Uldra or she can stay. If she stays, she would be on the streets until she can get the money for a cheap AirBnb.

_I'm so broke._

Thinking about the hunt for a new place to rent has left her feeling hopeless. Rooming with a stranger she doesn't trust is also not an option. Her future has never felt this bleak.

She stares hard at the wall across, anger and frustration still coursing inside of her. Her eyes threaten to water as she pushes down that last feeling she won't succumb to just yet.

_Was it worth going through all this?_

_I can't go back. I don't want to. Damn it!_

With a renewed resolve, Maren clings to it before it dissipates and unlocks her phone. Although she trusts Flynn, she has never met his brothers so it's still a risk. _Punz! Punz lives with her folks…_ and though she knows unpleasant stories about her mom's manipulative tendencies, it's still the safer option. She missed her night session because of this crazy situation, and she knows she would be understanding.

Maren is about to call Punz when she hears footsteps getting closer. A whistle follows them.

_Fuck, how long did I space out_? Suddenly aware of how empty the subway station has become aside from her and three bloodshot eyed guys, Maren is on her feet.

A sinking feeling settles in her stomach as she lets go of her suitcase, knowing it will only hinder her movement in the worst-case scenario. Maren tightens her hold on her sports bag, thanking her earlier self for being sound enough to put her important things in it.

"Whoa, like a deer in headlights! No need to be alarmed now lady," the snicker of a voice from behind her sets off sirens in her body even louder. Two more guys approach her, wearing clouded eyes accompanied by stretched smiles.

Maren bolts as soon as she finds an opening between them.

"Hey, have a little fun with us will you!?"

Sprinting to find the closest exit in the underground, Maren forces her tired legs to keep pumping. _Run goddammit!_ She hears the sounds of grunts and laughter closing in.

_Why are they so fast!?_ Maren hates herself for letting panic eat her time.

She turns to an empty and long alleyway and doesn't stop. She needs to get to a place where there are people, but luck has not been on her side. Racking her brain for knowledge on these streets she's never ventured in, she eyes a high fence by a left corner which leads to a brighter neighborhood, hoping it's not her imagination.

It's dark, and there's nowhere else that looks safer. Tightening her bag around her, she climbs the metallic fence and jumps down too soon on the other side, not recognizing the huge, sharp, and shattered pieces of glass on the ground nearby a garbage disposal dump.

Maren's body is screaming from pain all over, not having the time to realize the cuts on her body and face.

_I… need... A place to hide in… gotta… keep… running. _She wills her mind and body to keep awake, feeling bruised all over from the high fall. She runs as far as she can, limping in injury. She doesn't know how long she's been running, and there's no one to turn to for help.

The beginnings of rain pour down in the autumn night. Oblivious to the change of environment to a more peaceful neighborhood of small condos, she finds a couple of huge cardboard boxes by one of the entrances. She looks behind her, and it seems that they have lost her trail. Luck is on her side as the boxes are empty and one is big enough for her to fit in. Without a second thought, she places herself in one of them and curls inside, hugging her sports bag as she begins to shiver.

The soft pitter-patter of the midnight rain thrums in Maren's ears. It's amusing, she thinks, to hear melodic beats from something so simple even in this situation. Stuck and exhausted, her body aches for movement in her brief respite.

She listens again to the outpouring rhythm. In the seeming bleakness of it all, music still finds its way to comfort her.

Some of the raindrops fall on Maren's face as if to soothe her while she fades in and out a few times. She attempts to move an arm, a leg, anything. In the end, she gives up.

She hears footsteps nearby. It grows louder as she turns her head and looks up one last time, seeing a familiar pair of azure eyes. Her consciousness fades out before she can recall their owner's name.

* * *

**Notes:**

This story will have elements loosely based on the series _Tramps Like Us_, but it's not a full adaptation. It's my first attempt in writing fanfiction, which began as a warmup practice in between working on original stories. I don't have everything outlined, and I'm working towards specific moments I've conjured in my head. So we'll see where and how far this goes.

Edits may be frequent now and then as I'm new to writing. Reviews and comments are much appreciated.

Without further ado, enjoy, and thank you for reading! I'm on Tumblr, Twitter and other socials under the same username.


	2. Verse 2: look at me

**Notes:**

Last edited on: October 28th, 2020

* * *

**Verse 2: look at me**

Elsa wonders how it's possible to feel numbness and pain at the same time. Is it an oncoming migraine out of nowhere? Her head pounds as she stirs the steaming black coffee in front of her.

It could be from many things. For one, she hasn't been sleeping well. Although it has been a month since the new semester started, the second-years who returned from their summer vacation have been a little too loud in Corona High's hallways for her liking.

They're the least of her problems though. Tension within the parents' association and the higher-ups of the staff department has been rising. The reasons are the usual: the budget and the curriculum updates. The latter has been more on the forefront, no doubt for her increasing involvement with her new role as a coordinator, a promotion put in place a little before the previous summer vacation started.

It's nothing Elsa can't handle. But as much as she tries to ignore it, there are unpleasant whispers that find their way through her cracks, and she can only do so much to keep them at bay.

_I wish she'd get off her high horse already. Like, who does she think she is, trying to make us feel like idiots?_

_Huh, I guess that sort of thing also happens to the likes of her. Pfft, I feel bad, but she probably deserves it._

"U-um… so how about you?"

A thin voice pulls her back to reality. She can feel the shot of another throb. _Ah, of course._ It's this joke of a situation she's in, the cherry on top of everything she has to deal with.

"What about me?" Elsa picks up her cup and takes a sip. Minding its bitterness for some form of brief mental distraction is as pathetic as it sounds.

"I mean… how have you been, and all that." The voice belongs to a slouched man who wears an expression of concern that might as well be out of pity. Whether it's for himself or for her, Elsa could care less. It's the sort of thing you can expect from a guy like Nils Valberg.

"Nothing's changed. Does it look like I have been crying my eyes out?" Elsa leans back and crosses her legs. "Anyways, everything is inside that bag. I made sure everything left from your... from the office desk is in there, so this would be the last of our appointments. Besides," Elsa mutters in a bitter note as she picks up her purse and stands up, "I wouldn't want to impose on your schedule, with the baby coming up in a week." She looks down on him, her eyes piercing into his apologetic gaze as if to make a firm point of the impenetrable wall she has erected between them both.

Nils stands up after a few moments while adjusting his glasses. "Are you leaving already? …I-I can pay—"

"I'll pay my own," Elsa cuts him off. She turns her heel towards a smiling waitress to pay for her food. She looks back at Nils one last time and mutters, "good luck on your new life," as she walks towards the glassed door exit, entering the night with a resolute decision to never look back.

* * *

The loud drops of rain on the windshield drown Elsa's flood of thoughts as she turns off the car radio. It's pouring hard tonight but she's grateful for the sound. It relieves the exhaustion she's been feeling since earlier. She takes a deep breath, taking in the lavender chill of her car's interior.

Stopping on a red light, Elsa glances at her dashboard's clock. _10:15 pm._ She's annoyed it has gotten this late. She worries over Marshmallow being alone in the apartment for too long. With his old age and discipline, she's not worried about a potential mess from her long absence; it's because he can become too lonely all on his own.

There are twenty seconds left on the stoplight. She leans her head back, tempted to undo her bun right there and then, and closes her eyes for a brief second. Her thoughts have become empty from her slight fatigue, and she can't wait to go home, hug Marshmallow, and crash hard.

Elsa watches the rushing crowd crossing the street in front of her. It's a huge one since it's Friday night, especially when it's only a few blocks away from Aren Square, the heart of the city that never sleeps.

_Life goes on, huh._ She holds an almost wistful gaze towards the movement of people on the crosswalk.

* * *

Elsa feels grumpy with her tired body and mind moving on their own. She takes a moment to acknowledge her surroundings.

_I'm finally home_.

She can hear the light thunder as it pours heavier outside. Thankfully, she remembers the umbrella she brings every time the unforgiving rains of Arendale's autumn come around.

It's quiet besides the loud pitter-patter of the rain. The basement parking is right beside her apartment unit, in a neighborhood on the quieter side of the city. All units in her complex are of the shade of white, which gives them a simple yet elegant and pristine vibe. Tonight, they are soaked with a few splashes of grey dirt painted by the heavy winds and rain that are storming this corner of the city.

She was about to head inside her building when she notices a couple of huge cardboard boxes by the entrance. She ponders, feeling certain they weren't there by the aisle when she left for work this morning. In any case, she is tired, and her bed on the third floor calls to her. She turns on her heel.

A beat passes and she doesn't know what compels her to stop. Something about the boxes piques her curiosity, and her silly sense of responsibility itches her conscience. She walks towards the biggest one, hangs her shoulder bag to her arm carrying the umbrella, and reaches out with her hand—

_Oh my god!_

There is… something— no, _someone _inside the box.

Elsa steps back in shock. Her arm wraps around her stomach, and she feels the shot of anxiety inside her. It calms down the moment she realizes she may have seen slight movement inside. With caution, she steps forward to open the box once more.

She had an inkling of who it was when she saw the outline of a face that could only be as striking as _hers_, but now she's certain. The person's entire body is shivering and her hair is messy, some of it sticking on her face.

Elsa notices the small bloodied scratches on her chin and the lower side of her left cheek. Her body is curled up inside the box, clutching on a huge and brown sports bag for her dear life.

_M-Maren…!?_

A flash of hazel eyes startles Elsa. Even in the dark, they almost shine, making Elsa hold her breath.

The rain doesn't seem to be letting up soon. Elsa pulls out her phone, her hands a little frantic as her thumb hovers on the wet screen in an attempt to push in 911. Again, she surprises herself when another idea takes over.

She shoves her phone down her pocket, walks back to the box, drags it inside the building, and slides it into the small corner by the mailboxes.

_God, what am I doing!?_

Elsa opens the box's lid again and reaches down to inspect a possible head injury. Maren is shivering, so she isn't completely unconscious.

Maren's hair is damp, but there's no blood. With the help of some light, Elsa sees more short gashes on Maren's hands with her jacket's sleeves ripped with small cuts.

Letting out a small sigh of relief, Elsa once again surprises herself—_seriously, what am I doing_—as she pushes the box towards the elevator entrance, pressing the button to go up to her floor as a series of _what am I doing_'s assault her inner self.

* * *

Fumbling on her keys, Elsa enters her apartment, heaving as she drags the box inside. Thankfully, she encountered no other tenant on the way up. _God._ She wouldn't have known how to explain herself. She can't even reason against her sense of thinking at the moment.

Fatigue is now somewhere at the back of her mind at this point. In a matter of minutes, calmness settles in her nerves. She kicks off her heels and pushes the box to her living room. She untangles Maren from her bag and carries her outside of the box, placing her on the sofa, which she has prepared with blankets and towels.

Maren is wearing an oversized cotton jacket marred by mud and cuts, so it's easy to take it off, leaving her in a black tank top. The small scratches and bruises her jacket hid are now visible and Elsa wonders how on Earth she got that many while wearing one. They're on her left shoulder, arms, and hands.

But they aren't what catches Elsa's attention the most.

With a little marvel, she understands now why she never saw the woman in anything but long-sleeved under-armors at work, even when the weather is still warm enough to warrant shirts for PE classes.

On the left of her shoulder is a hawk's striking eye, fiercely etched with its beak open. It's half-covered by her tank top with its majestic dark wings spreading out towards her back and both of her arms.

It's almost like seeing Maren for the first time.

Elsa cleans the dirt and blood on her face, shoulder, and arms. She wraps a bandage around her right hand, which has a long gash. She continues to do this in silence as if the brief pause of moments before never transpired.

* * *

Elsa stares into the mushroom soup as she stirs it to a ready state. Somehow, the headaches that plagued her the entire day are now gone. She can hear the rain outside calming down.

Scooping up a few spoonfuls of the soup into a Chinese bowl, she walks over to the sofa, noticing that Maren is trembling a lot.

Crouching, Elsa whispers. "Maren. Maren. You need to eat something warm. At least a spoon or two." With a napkin, she tries to feed her.

Maren, who has been going in and out of consciousness, attends to her presence with eyes closed. After the third spoon, Maren turns back to her other side, visibly more in comfort with her shivering almost gone.

Content with this sight, Elsa gets up and carries the dishes to the sink, turning off the lights as she heads inside her room. She unties her hair from its bun and flops on her bed without bothering to change out of her clothes, staring up in the darkness. "Goodnight," she thinks aloud as she welcomes the returning waves of fatigue for the last time that day and falls asleep.

* * *

**Notes:**

For a quick reference of Maren's tattoos, it's based on Gladiolus' from Final Fantasy XV.


	3. Verse 3: Something New

**Notes:**

Last edited on: October 28th, 2020

* * *

**Verse 3: Something New**

She's dreaming.

Maren doesn't remember when it started, but she knows she is. She was running at some point, but now, fluttering darkness surrounds her entire being.

In a concerted effort, she tries hard to remember.

The subway. North Uldra. Pain. Dampness. Warmth.

Azure eyes.

In a jolt, Maren opens her eyes, immediately covering them from the brightness of the room. A pang spreads throughout her body, in particular her right hand, which she now sees is bandaged.

With her eyes slowly adjusting back to normal, Maren takes a good look at the room she's in. Almost everything is pale in color and minimalistic, including the sofa she's sitting in. It's serene. The warmth seeping into her isn't just from the blanket she is wrapped in; she's in a homely space.

A small kitchen counter catches her attention. The room is a large open area and it's in her line of sight, right beside a small dining set. It's clean as the rest of the room, but she has an inkling it was used recently from—

_Wait… what day is it?_ By instinct, Maren looks around for her phone, then like a crushing wave everything comes back to her: her harsh eviction, the subway assault, and chase; then comes the more vague memories of being moved around, the prickling and aching sensations, and warmth reminiscent of what's enveloping her at this moment, though the source was more familiar and gentler, bringing her back to those eyes she dreamed of and recalling the voice.

_No way… is this her place? Wait, where's my damn—_ Before she panics, she sees her bag on the other side of the room with relief. Slipping out of the blanket, she walks towards it and zips it open, though it doesn't go unnoticed by a particular someone.

"Grr... Woof!"

"Shi—" Catching her off guard, Maren loses her balance, stumbling backward only to be accompanied by a shot of pain from her right hand. With a hiss, she faces the source of the growling and shoots them a pleading look.

"Look, I just need to find my phone, then I swear I'll leave your place in peace! Swiftly. Preferably without waking your master up. Please?" Maren whispers, only to be interrupted by more growling and barking. Maren cringes and waits for the inevitable.

"Marshy? What's going on over there?"

Light footsteps grow louder and suddenly her sight makes Maren ponder if she is in fact in a stranger's house.

Their eyes meet.

_Never mind, it's definitely her_.

Elsa walks over to the growling white retriever, seemingly out of her element with her loose pajamas and unkempt bed hair, something she can sympathize with at the moment.

"Hey, it's okay," Elsa consoles Marshy as she pats and rubs his head. "She's… a friend. From work." Her attention returns to Maren, who now waves back a little with a small smile.

Maren reaches out for Marshy to sniff her hand, now calming down from the commotion. As she tries to pet Marshy, an uncomfortable silence descends, leaving the air in a state of awkwardness and maybe she should just bolt out of the apartment as she initially planned—

_Oh right, my phone_! Maren sits up in abruptness and stumbles again while landing on her injured hand, letting out a yelp and a curse. Before she could give another attempt at standing up, Elsa walks over to help her out, guiding her back towards the sofa. Elsa gives her the bag.

"Thanks… thanks a lot. Really don't know what to say more than that." Maren smiles in hopes of dissipating the awkwardness. Especially when Elsa is looking at her like she had something itching to say. _She's probably wondering what happened, should I tell her? This awkwardness is killing me. She did all of this for me though, so maybe she'll listen…_

As if she read her mind, Elsa speaks up. "I'm not gonna pry into what exactly happened if you're not comfortable talking about it. Fortunately, your wounds are nothing serious but you're still allowed to take at least a week off from work. I'll just have to look for a substitute next week," she ends with a strained but formal tone.

"Wait, you don't need to have the full week covered, I recover fast, you know," Maren feels sudden exhaustion from those words. She looks at Elsa, still standing, with her face now unreadable. She feels it, the distance being held by Elsa's professionalism. Though Elsa's courtesy is still there, Maren can feel the shift and the walls, and suddenly she feels alone, more aware than before that she has nowhere else to go.

But it's too late to back down now.

"No, seriously, I got this. One time, I got into an accident as a kid, riding a bike downhill when I very well shouldn't since, well, I didn't know how to ride one just yet. So you can guess what happened next," Maren chortles a bit at the memory. "Got myself cuts and bruises aaall over me, just like right now. Patched myself right up and voila, up and ready in two days. Didn't do so well at a biking race that day with old friends but hey, I was well enough to move around," she gestures with a shrug, feeling awkward with her rambling.

Maren doesn't think Elsa would take that easily.

"Even so, it won't look good to have you still looking bruised up walking around the campus. I guarantee you'll catch attention. And that… will be on me as your coordinator." Elsa says as she crosses her arms.

The words do sting a little, but seeing the Elsa in front of her say it, disheveled with darkened circles under her eyes she knows the cause of— it breaks something inside of Maren, a dam of sudden curiosity and interest she can't hold back. Maren can sense Elsa's walls are still up, but if it meant climbing them just to take a peek of that kindness she received, to have a taste of it once more— she would be forgiven for trespassing a little right?

Maren breaks in a small giggle.

"…excuse me?"

"S-sorry, it's just that, you know," Maren chortles again, which she tries hard to stop, "I'm so used to seeing you at work all firm and proper and it's just you look, um, really different right now but— sorry, I don't think my brain is fully awake right now actually—"

"Look, it's great you're feeling better now. I'm sure you wanna go home as soon as you can," Elsa mutters as she heads to the counter, car keys in sight, "so I can just quickly dress up and drive you to your place—"

"Actually, you can't." _Here goes nothing_. "Or rather, there's… not really any place you can drive me to. I got evicted."

Elsa stops in her tracks. "Oh."

"Long story short, my landlord is an asshole, and I can't really afford to sue at all, so I just left. Packed my bags, stared into space due to brief existential dread, forgot the time and suddenly I got perverts on my tail, left my big suitcase behind, bolted as fast as I could, jumped right inside some big carton box after god knows how many minutes I was running, and well, now I'm here," Maren feels a tad bit livelier than she probably should.

Elsa absorbs her explanation and gets lost in thought.

Maren knows where it's going. She's going to be encouraged to return home to the north. _Hell no_.

Elsa is about to say it. And so the only natural thing to happen next was for those words to leave out of Maren's mouth before she could take them back.

"Can I stay here?"

"Wait, I'm sorry, what—"

"I mean, with how little I get paid part-time—I'm sure you know—I won't be able to afford a decent rent, and after my previous encounter I really don't wanna have to go through that shit again."

"Look, I don't think—"

Maren hisses as she stands successfully this time, feeling wretched walking to Elsa. "I just need a place to stay, while I look for a new one." _Which is close to impossible at this point because this is Arendale and that won't be happening anytime soon but fuck it._ "Please?" Maren fidgets with a hopeful smile, cringing a little inside. "I can pay you and it doesn't need to be a room, just a sofa at a corner would be enough! And I can, uhh, help out with chores—well, I can't cook, I'm not good with food, but I can maybe help with groceries too and I'm actually good at tidying."

Elsa stares back at her in astonishment, probably creeped out at this point.

_Alright, this is where I get my ass finally kicked out, you've really done it now Maren, pack your—_

"Okay."

_Bags— wait, what?_

"Wait, for real?" _Did I hear that right?_

Elsa's eyes widen as if she also didn't expect what she just said. "W-well, you don't need to pay anything. It's more logical to save it up for a new place. And I can use some help with the chores and Marshy, err, Marshmallow—"

In a beat, Maren's arms are around Elsa, ignoring the fact that Elsa has raised her arms to push her back, though now they're squeezed between them. "Thaaank youuu soo much!" Maren wobbles around a bit on her tiptoes, realizing how Elsa is taller even on bare feet.

"As I was saying," Elsa huffs out and inches back. She crosses her arms.

_Whatever_. Maren can't stop smiling.

"Before I can let you stay, you have to agree to my terms. First, boundaries. We can share food and amenities here, but I'll give you your own private space as I have mine."

"Gotcha, no impromptu hugs, and I'll keep my shit with me at all times." Maren nods. She can't help but act a little bratty.

Elsa continues to be stoic. "Second, I'll give you your keys, but you can't invite anyone over. Instead of paying me for rent, I expect you to help with the chores and be compliant with the building's rules."

"Mhm."

"And third… as much as possible, you can't tell anyone you're living with me. That should be pretty obvious why."

"Alright, no worries, I'll stay low profile. Easy peasy."

It might be the ridiculousness of the situation and her adrenaline shooting up, but Maren is feeling bolder than usual. "All terms accepted," she raises her hand in jest, placing it on top of her chest, and bows her head.

* * *

"This is the storage room. I have one here, and another in the building's basement. Well, I don't think you would need to use either of them. But we will in a moment."

"Okay," Maren follows Elsa's tail like a kid towards an area with a stainless ladder. "Your place is pretty neat, by the way. I wouldn't get one this big on my own but hey, if you got the cash why not, right Marshy?" Maren crouches and grins towards the white retriever, who is now warming up to her presence. From the corner of her eye, she sees Elsa climb the ladder towards an area that seems to be a small loft. She can hear a few rustling of things but complete silence from Elsa's end.

A few minutes pass and she sees Elsa with a tied up garbage bag climbing down. She was about to reach out and ask if she needs help, but her entire body is still awkward in movement. _Geez, hope this doesn't take longer than the weekend._

The thought reminds her (for the umpteenth time) about her phone, now suspecting a few missed calls on it from Punz because she missed her sessions.

Maren fetches her phone from the bag. She's right. Three missed calls and a text message, all from Punz._ I hope she's not mad._ A little nerve-wracked, she doesn't bother checking the message and immediately dials her.

"I wasn't gonna stay alone when I moved here."

"Huh?" Distracted from her waiting, Maren turns her head to Elsa, who's already back from the storage. She didn't expect an answer from earlier.

"I had plans for marriage." Once again, Elsa climbs up the ladder.

"Oh," Maren was about to apologize for prying when another voice breaks her current train of thought.

"_Maren! Thank god you decided to call! I was so worried!"_ Cringing a bit from the high volume, Maren turns it down.

"Hey Punz, sorry I couldn't take your calls," Maren smiles in relief. She's still nervous, but her worries dissipate when she hears the concern in Punz.

Explaining what happened isn't easy even though she feels more secure with her place in the studio compared to her job at the school. Though, Maren figures, that's exactly why it isn't. Losing it would be the biggest blow. She tries to be transparent to Punz, but she keeps the details brief.

"I have a place to stay at so I'm fine for now." Maren ruffles Marshmallow's fur.

"_Wait, really? Okay, well, of course, you did since you're talking to me right now— wait. Maren, are you sure you're safe there? You've heard about the notorious number of creeps in some blocks near the west-side, right? Who took you in, have they been nice? A lot of people fake it well okay, so you should send me your GPS location just in case— _

Before she could cut into Punz's tirade, a hand gesture catches her eye.

"Give me the phone, I'll talk to her."

Though she can still hear Punz talking from the other end, Maren gives her phone to Elsa in a bemused motion.

"Punz, it's me. Don't worry, she's safe."

_Huh_?

"…yes. Yeah. No, I offered her an actual space in the apartment." Elsa sighs as the sound of Punz's barrage of questions clearly isn't ending anytime soon.

Maren notices Elsa's voice softened.

"Look, we can catch up later, we're in the middle of sorting things out here. Later then. Bye." Elsa hands back the phone to Maren, who's a little surprised by what just happened.

Elsa speaks up before Maren could ask. "Punz is my cousin. I didn't know you knew her. We didn't grow up together, but we keep in touch often. She visits sometimes." Elsa glances to the loft, then back to Maren. "Well, I've freed up the loft to be your space, but you can stay on the sofa until your wounds are—"

"I'll go check it!"

"—wait! You'll… hurt yourself…"

Oblivious to Elsa's exasperation, excitement takes over Maren as she hops on the ladder, climbing up with one hand only. "Wow, this is so cool! This is so much more spacious than I thought!" The ceiling of the loft is low, allowing one to crouch at most. She crawls back and hovers over the small stainless fence. "Thank you so much, Elsa! You're the best!"

Below, Elsa looks unamused, though is that a tinge of blush she sees? Anyway, she's still giddy over her new "place". She crawls over to the center of the loft's floor and lays down.

"…I have spare beddings you can use and a thin mattress. I can set it up later."

"Alright! Really appreciate it!"

Silence descends. Maren wonders what to say next, staring up at the ceiling, the brightness of the room illuminating dust particles above her.

"I didn't know you danced under Punz's studio."

Maren smiles at the comment, making her sit up and crawl her way back to climb down. Elsa has been braiding her hair, just finishing up as she let it flow on her left shoulder.

_Pretty_.

"I knew you danced of course, but not the specifics. What's your field?" Elsa asks, eyes gleaming with genuine curiosity.

"Take a guess," Maren grins. She knows this will agitate Elsa again, but she does it anyway. Without a warning, Maren makes a slow forward body roll immediately following up with a backflip using only her left arm. Marshmallow starts barking excitedly. She does another backflip again, adding a little flair by twisting her body a bit. _Ow_. She lands back to the ground, on one knee, and looks up at Elsa.

"Not bad."

Maren knows she impressed her.

"Modern dance?"

"Close! I practice two styles, that and street dance. So how 'bout it ma'am, what's my score? Or is it too impressive that a ranking won't suffice?" Maren teases with a grin.

Elsa smirks. _She didn't_. In the blink of an eye, it was gone. "Don't call me that, it's weird."

"Sure, sure—" Maren stumbles over. "Ow…"

"That's what you get for being stubborn. You okay? Your left hand should have a small cut too."

A murmur comes out of Maren. "…mmm..wer."

"What?"

"…I'm dying for a shower."

* * *

_Bandages cleaned, check. Plastic bags around bandaged hands, check._ The smaller band-aids she has should be waterproof according to Elsa. Maren steps into the tub, now filled with lukewarm water and soap. It's pure bliss.

A few moments pass as she soaks herself in, contemplating how she will shampoo her hair. Her scalp is itching all over. She attempts to grab the bottle nearby and pumps it with her elbow with frustration. As expected, the shampoo liquid squirts on the side of the tub, and simultaneously, she realizes her hair is not untied.

_Nope, this is not gonna work._

"Um, Elsa? Are you there?" Maren calls over, a little frantic.

"Yes?" Elsa's muffled voice echoes right outside the bathroom's door.

"This isn't working, my hands are super useless right now and I'm itching to wash my hair… can you help me?"

"S-sure, give me a moment," Maren hears Elsa walk away. She waits patiently.

A moment passes. And another.

"Achoo!" Maren squirms and hugs herself. _Where did she go?_ "Uhh, Elsa? You can come in anytime now!"

She hears the turn of the door handle. "Sorry, had to get something. So what do you need help with?"

The sight of Elsa's arrival turns something inside of Maren.

She bursts into laughter.

"Excuse me?"

Maren can't help it. Elsa's already busying herself by grabbing a stool to sit on behind the tub, but the image has been seared in her mind. _Elsa's wearing black sunglasses. Freakin' sunglasses._

"Stay still, it's already foggy enough in here."

"Or, you can take them off instead," Maren snickers. "Elsa, we're both women! Have you never been in gym classes with girls before?" Maren turns around, only for Elsa to turn her back around by her shoulders.

"It's called 'respecting a person's privacy'. I don't want to see what I shouldn't." Elsa removes Maren's long braid and proceeds into shampooing her.

Maren relaxes into the movements. She doesn't know what to make of what's happening, but somehow Elsa is washing her hair right now. Of course, it's only for her circumstances that Elsa's being (overtly) nice, but enjoy it while it lasts, right? Though in the corner of Maren's mind, she knows beyond the glimpse she's had that this is the real Elsa, unbeknownst to the people around them at their workplace where sneers and irrational judgment were flung at her adamantly. She wonders how many times Elsa has put up the same walls she has barely climbed, baring no doors for anyone to even knock on.

And then, just like the rays of sunlight seeping in that morning, an earlier image of Elsa with distant eyes enters her mind, leaning by the loft and braiding her bed hair with her slim fingers, the same ones massaging her scalp right now.

"Hmm, that feels really good," Maren thinks out loud on a slip. Figuring that it's too late to take those words back, she leans back more into the touch.

Before she could even resist holding back another comment, a blast of cold water hits her scalp, freezing any coherent thoughts she has left.

"Aaaa! Elsa!?" Maren yelps and flails in surprise, splashing around the water in the tub. She turns around to look up at Elsa, still with her sunglasses on, now grinning at the mess she is responsible for.

_Yeah, it's worth the climb._


	4. Verse 4: Good Night

**Notes:**

Last edited on: October 28th, 2020

* * *

**Verse 4: Good Night**

"_Marshy! Mom and dad are fighting again…" a tearful Elsa buried her face into the fur of a white retriever puppy. Though barely grown, he held exuberant energy that would always grab her adoration. "Dad… dad has another affair. They're thinking about divorce again. Why does this keep happening?" _

_Marshmallow turned around and licked Elsa's face, wet with her tears, her eyes red from crying hard. _

_Elsa smiled through the puppy's kisses, touched by his displays of affection._

_The white retriever got immediately attached to her. Sometimes, Elsa would think back to the quiet and isolated years of her childhood, spending her time alone in the room drawing and reading endless novels. If she had a pet like Marshmallow before, maybe she would have been less lonely. _

_The recent years have been tumultuous. Filled with intermittent fights, the fragility of their household gradually rising to the surface have seeped further into Elsa's walls. _

_Marshmallow arrived and relieved her pain._

_Elsa assumed all families went through this. At a young age, she wasn't completely ignorant. The happy beginnings followed by the highs and lows of marriage, the hurt both parties intentionally brought to each other, and the high expectations they held towards one another. The worst of it all was that she loved both Agnarr and Iduna and understood their mistakes. And between those mistakes and the pain they have caused, was a love that they desperately kept alive, less for the sake of each other, but more for the sake of their only child._

_So when they booked a ferry trip to Alemann, an attempt to fix their ailing relationship with a new experience, she held onto the hope that things would improve. It was a genuine feeling that made her enthusiastic about the whole thing, urging herself to help with preparations. Elsa carried those feelings with her as she drove them to Arendale Port, a memory that would stay with her for as long as she lived. With Marshmallow beside her, she had imparted her parents a bright smile, the first in weeks, as they boarded the ferry. _

_On the way home, Marshmallow never left her side._

_Even when the news that arrived the next day would end up shattering her walls, her heavy and aching sobs flooding the emptiness of their house as she held onto Marshmallow for her dear life._

* * *

Elsa sips her black coffee, staring at her staff's weekly schedule. She hovers on the edit button in contemplation. Adjustments are normal near the beginning of the school year, much to the enjoyment of the students, who deem the lax period as their "last chance to go all out and have fun". Elsa has been thorough in allocating assistants and substitutes due to the recent risks of under-staffing combined with the immense growth of the student body.

An entry catches her eye under the list of assistants. _Maren Heidi - part-time, 20 hours_. Elsa sips once again while glancing across her office's glassed windows. Her eyes skip two desks in the open area, only to see Flynn Rider with his headphones on, mouthing some words as he busies himself with paperwork.

The smaller desk beside him is empty. _Of course_. Maren is rarely on it after all, and before the last two weeks, Elsa can count on one hand the number of times they have talked.

_Two weeks_. It feels longer than that, with the new living situation caused by her abrupt decision. It hasn't been bad so far, Elsa reckons, except for a few incidents around chores.

Like when Maren cleaned at one point…

"_Elsa... Was this expensive? Like, really expensive?" _

"_Well… a usual Bernardaud price, I guess…"_

…or that time Maren attempted to cook for her…

"_Actually… maybe we should just get pizza delivered?"_

"…_sure, but why is the kitchen filled with white powder?"_

…or that other time she asked Maren to do the groceries…

"_I sent you the address of the Bodega store I usually get my spices from. Stop at 33rd St and it should just be a few blocks away, okay?"_

"_Roger!"_

…which didn't end quite well.

"_Elsa… where am I…"_

"…_and how do you suppose I would know!?"_

In the end, Elsa opted for leading the bigger chores while Maren would simply assist her around. She leans back, thinking about how she doesn't mind the new arrangement at all when a memory sneaks into her thoughts.

"_Ah, my body is sore."_

"_What did we talk about personal spa—"_

"_Yeah, yeah. What are you reading?"_

_Elsa was sitting on her sofa when Maren flopped on it and snuck her head on her lap. In a huff, Elsa returned her attention to her magazine._

"_It's an old issue about popular conspiracies and unsolved crimes."_

"_Oh, I love that stuff too! You're a bigger nerd than I thought, thank god." Even without looking, Elsa sensed that Maren was grinning at her. She flipped a page and continued to read._

"_I read too much of these things," Elsa blurted out. "I wanted to be a journalist at some point because of it."_

"_I can totally see that," Maren was nodding. "Somehow, I could see every word in your articles being drenched in snark. You'd be popular as hell for it, especially with your sharp looks."_

"_You're really asking for it, aren't you?" Elsa said as she looked down and saw Maren chuckling, barely noticing that she was starting to smile herself._

In some ways, Maren almost reminds her of Marshmallow.

All of a sudden, Elsa adjusts herself in her seat. _Get a grip, seriously._ She collects herself and gets back to work.

* * *

"Mr. Weselton," Elsa closes the door behind her, feeling stiff as she walks further inside the principal's office. She knows something is up and she doesn't like it one bit.

_Just when I was ready to go home._

"Miss Larsen! I hope you've been well, as you always seem to be," the short, skinny man in his seventies looks up to her from the rims of his glasses. He clicks around on his computer in silence, leaving Elsa standing at the center of the room before finally saying "take a seat, please".

Elsa sits down on one of the chairs right in front of the principal's desk. "Is there something you wanted to talk about?"

She holds her jitters at bay. She isn't the biggest fan of Weselton, who holds his title because of his renowned career in education. He is also known for being an opportunist who sometimes crosses the line of propriety.

"Oh nothing much in particular, I just wanted to check in on how things are doing with your new staff," Weselton turns his chair towards Elsa, moving closer to his desk. "And the new office, for that matter. We haven't had a good chat since your move."

"It's been good so far, thank you." Elsa doesn't know what else to say. "Moving to the wider space proved to be better for a lot of the staff."

"I expected nothing less," Weselton praises her. "And on top of being the youngest coordinator this school has seen, your achievements have been remarkable."

"Thank you, sir."

Weselton interlocks his fingers, his eyebrows furrowing. "Miss White came to me the other day about a situation she briefly had with you."

_Oh_. "Right. I believe that situation has also been resolved. Is there something wrong?"

"Well, as you said, it seems to have been resolved." Weselton looks at her. "Yet, she seemed very troubled by it, blaming herself for a mistake you've pointed out. In which I then learned was a simple header mistake on one of our curriculum materials handed out. Supposedly, something you got mad about."

_I was not!_

"That must have been a misunderstanding," Elsa claims, a flush rising out of her from the pit of her stomach. The encounter with Miss White from last week comes to her, which has slipped from her mind.

"_Ah, I'm sorry! I didn't know. Oh no, I think I did it wrong for all the other papers too!", Miss White chirped, startled in front of Elsa. _

"_It happens. Just be careful next time, okay?" Elsa assured the woman. She attended back to what she was doing when she heard Miss White say something._

"_I feel so silly… I mean, you came after me as a fellow junior, and now you're already a coordinator." In the corner of Elsa's eyes, Miss White was playing with the tips of her hair. "I got in here thanks to my network, but I still can't become full-time due to my lack of experience. I guess I don't compare to gifted younger ladies like you." She chuckled. "You went to Trom, right? That university is tops. I'm so envious, everything for you is a piece of cake." Miss White chimed._

_An upsetting twinge inside Elsa shifted something within her. She took a deep breath. "If you're so envious, why don't you go and sit for the entrance exams? I'm sure there's no age limit." Elsa paused at her chore to face Miss White, accompanied by a brief smile in a deadpan manner. "Although, I don't know whether that will teach you how to write correct headers."_

"All I'm saying is," Weselton explains, bringing Elsa back to the present, "Exercising your strict nature to uphold our quality is welcome, but perhaps not so much towards your colleagues. Especially over such trivial things," he ends with a hand gesture and a smile.

"Okay." She's once again left with not much else to say. "If there's nothing else, I will take my leave."

As Elsa walks on her way out, Weselton calls to her. "Take it easy, Miss Larsen. She isn't as strong as you."

With a nod that is barely there, Elsa heads outside and walks in silence. The hallways are quiet, painted in deep orange by the sunset. Elsa quickens her pace, when murmurs from an adjacent room slow it down again, its room barely open.

"It's all I'm saying," a guy's voice echoes, recognizably a faculty member from another department. "I can't imagine going out with a stuck up chick who has a higher salary than me, flaunting those two master degrees. I just can't."

"You're a real idiot," another guy chimes in. "What're you gonna do if she hears that? She'd get your ass handed over on the spot." He laughs.

_It's nothing new_. _It always happens_. She continues her walk when more words catch her ear.

"Nils broke up with her because he couldn't stand that attitude, no question. Almost two years down the drain, man, I feel bad for the guy."

Before the unease could settle in, Elsa once again quickens her pace, with another set of words haunting her.

"_I feel more relaxed when I'm with her."_

* * *

"Hrmm… oh, Elsa, welcome home," Maren greets her from the sofa, but Elsa's mind is elsewhere. Stepping out of the hallway, she puts her sandals on one of her racks, leaves her bag by the center table, and walks into the kitchen area.

She brings out a pan from the cupboard and a few ingredients from the pantry and the fridge. "Have you eaten?" Elsa asks in between, her tone calm.

"I got a sandwich on the way home," Maren answers, walking over to the counter. "So you don't really need to prepare… anything…"

Maren's words die as they go through Elsa's one ear and out the other. She has already put on her apron, slicing through onions, garlic, and carrots, with her pan sizzling with scrambled eggs on the side. She places them neatly on a plate and shortly follows it with sauteing the vegetables she just chopped, adding some peas to the mix. She keeps it up until she adds the rice and stir-fries the whole dish, its rich aroma soothing her senses, garnering some attention from her roommate.

Some moments pass when her dazed state is interrupted by Maren's enthusiastic praise, who is still finishing up the fried rice she just made. "Oh man, it's jusht too good! Seriously, this ish one of the besht things I have ever eaten in my life," Maren claims, swallowing the last spoonful. "It's even better than last week, I swear."

"Mhm," Elsa leans on her elbow, amused by the sight in front of her.

Maren stands to clean up, stretching her arms. "Ah, thank you for the good meal. I'm gonna go ahead and shower," With a smile, she leaves the counter.

"Wait."

"Hm?"

"Do you want your hair to be shampooed?" Elsa asks, still leaning on her elbow.

Maren makes an unreadable look. "Um, my hand is fine now though," She pauses for a moment, but is then followed by a "but sure" in the end. "I'll go prepare then," She leaves with a smile.

Just like earlier, Elsa moves, feeling almost lost in reverie. It's as if something has reigned over her movements since she entered the apartment. It nags her in the back of her mind because she knows this is not the first time, not since the last two weeks of this new normal. Beat after beat, she would do one thing after another, familiar chores she has done for so long, yet this time around she would feel lighter, the weights of her heart all cast away outside of her apartment's doorstep.

Indeed, it's even truer right now. She catches herself in the middle of a slow rant as she washes Maren's hair, her agitation seeping into her voice. "Should I feel bad about going to a good university? And must people keep babbling about it in such a crude way?"

"Erm, Elsa, it's a little hard…"

"And the way they say it! Does it give them the joy to jerk over other people's misfortune!?" Elsa goes on, her voice rising a little in strain.

She slows down with her rinsing and takes the showerhead.

"…I've never naturally had anything…" Elsa whispers, a tinge of hurt dripping in her voice.

_Everything I have… is what I've worked hard for._

_Are they saying it's all useless?_

"Elsa." Maren's voice brings her out of her thoughts. "You know what, I think you're pretty great."

Elsa meets Maren's eyes, who are now looking up at her.

"You're an excellent cook. Heck, you're even washing my hair right now. You've been nice and kind to me heaps. And…" Maren adds, though now quieter, "I know you're always working harder than anyone."

The words put Elsa in a helpless stupor and she can only stare back. Before she attempts to reply, Maren has turned back around. It dawns on her that she's not wearing her sunglasses.

An inviting back and a wave of vulnerability flood her senses.

What to do?

Elsa doesn't wait to answer. She leans her forehead on top of Maren's damp hair and notices a still in her movements. Soon after Maren relaxes, now with Elsa's arms around her shoulders.

In the comfort of their silence, Elsa could feel Maren's soft breath, and she remembers she is not alone.

* * *

"_Marshy, you're the only one that listens to me. You're all I have."_

_A dream?_ Elsa opens her eyes, recognizing the surroundings as her bedroom. She feels the slight pang of a headache as she tries to remember when she had fallen asleep. _Ugh_. Her memories are hazy from the previous night.

Just when she forces her head to remember more, a slight movement disrupts her from behind, alarming all her senses and making her pulse palpitate. In an abrupt motion, she turns around to see Maren in her bed, sleeping in peace.

_No…_

Without a second thought, she lifts their blanket. Elsa sighs in relief. Both of them still have their clothes on.

_God_, Elsa thinks, almost chastising herself. She sits up and rubs her eyes with her palm heel, the headache finally manifesting to her mind as a hangover.

The memories return to her. _That's right, after that, I drank and… _

"_Nils youuu… dooork! Having an affair… hic… with someone who doesn't shower! You idiooooot!" Elsa swayed by her balcony, losing her footing on the way._

"_Elsa, it's three in the morning!" Maren desperately held her down with care, pulling her back into the apartment._

_Did she look after me all night…?_ Elsa looks over Maren, who's curled up and facing her. Touched, Elsa reaches over Maren's forehead, brushing her fingers over Maren's messy fringe. _Thank you._

Elsa gets up to start her day, braiding her mane in its usual way. The apartment is quiet, shadows of the late noon looming in the surroundings. It occurs to her she has seen little of Marshmallow since she arrived home last night, who was already sleeping at the time she did.

"Marshy?" Elsa calls out, walking by her storage room. She sees him curled on his mat, but trepidation strikes her. Something is wrong.

Marshmallow is completely still.

Elsa's breath quickens as she crouches down. She carefully caresses his fur and head, until her shaking hand finally reaches around his left side. A quiet heartbeat.

Elsa takes a few moments controlling her breathing with deep inhales. _Get it… get it under control. _At the last exhale, she wastes no time as she grabs her car keys and carries his body outside.

Her thoughts are empty. She holds a calm expression throughout the entire drive to the veterinarian. But neither could mask the tremor at her core, felt through the prickling of her eyes, and the shaking of her hands on the wheel.

The events would pass by in an instant.

Twelve years.

Failing health that can cause more discomfort and pain.

It would be quick and painless.

A peaceful ending to his life.

In the blink of an eye, she's back at her neighborhood, its tranquility engulfing her. Clear skies escort her footsteps on the way home, though they are heavy on the pavement. A gravity she has never felt before.

No, she _has _felt it before.

The tremor in her never stopped. Even then, she has to hold on, just for a bit longer. Every step forward the aching inside her grows, pulsing and devouring, but she still moves forward. It grips Elsa's entire being until the moment she holds the handle to her entrance door with the same weight. And when she sees Maren standing there in the hallway, eyes filled with concern, waiting, Maren's words audible to her ears, her vision blurs. The grip loosens around her heart and everything is let out, and it won't stop. It keeps pouring out, stealing her strength and control, giving way to her legs, a wave of anguish holding her in place.

And Maren is there. Maren holds her and takes it all in, with a shoulder that carries her weight and absorbs her tears. In her mourning, Elsa wonders how much Maren must have gone through in life to have this strength, in the moments she has not seen her.

How much Marshmallow had to bear all this time.

"It's going to be okay. I'm here."


	5. Verse 5: Greedy

**Notes:**

Last edited on: October 28th, 2020

* * *

**Verse 5: Greedy**

"Wait! Not yet," a firm yet gentle voice from her left stops Maren's hand in movement, which was about to take away a piece of sausage from a plate.

"Alrighty," Maren snickers, returning to the counter. As she eases into her seat, she absorbs the waft of bacon and eggs that permeates the radiant kitchen, with a tease of vanilla perfume at the end. In the past month of living with Elsa, Maren has gotten used to these weekend brunches.

"Here you go." A warm plate of food in hand, Elsa places it over in front of her, with a plate of her own. Her hair glistens from the rays of the forenoon. "You're welcome."

"Hm, too good," Maren murmurs, already downing on her eggs. "How do you make normal food taste so good?"

"You know you say that almost every day, right? And don't rush it," Elsa notes as she slices through her sausages. "Punz should be here soon, right? She can stay for a bit."

"Mhm, no can do, we have a long session today. Usually is on Saturdays." Just when Maren pauses her eating to check the time on her phone, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it." Elsa stands up, making her way down the hallway.

"Howdy!" Punz's chirpy greetings echo to the kitchen, making Maren smile through her food. Feeling energized, she finishes and cleans up, grabs her sports bag, and darts towards the entrance to meet the two. "And hello to you too! Should we go ahead? I think we only got a few minutes to spare until the next train stops."

"Yeah, I'm good! We're off then," Maren says as she puts on her sneakers in a rush; and maybe it's the adrenaline kicking in that moment or Elsa's almost distant look—her arms crossed as she sees them off—but the impulse to step in and give her a chaste kiss on the cheek takes over. And so she steps in and does just that.

Walking ahead, she notices Punz a little left behind, still by the door, giving a brief and questioning look at Elsa. Elsa just returns it with an oblivious poise.

In a beat, Punz catches up to her as they make their way to the subway station, a small one just right outside of Elsa's neighborhood. Punz was right. They still have a few minutes to spare until the next train arrives. Enough for Maren to notice that Punz is grinning at her, giving her the same look as she did towards Elsa.

"What?"

"Nothing, seems that Elsa and I have more to catch up on."

* * *

_Throb._ Maren stares at the ceiling while leaning back on her arms, catching her breath from a brief session of leg stretching. A mild ache is coursing through her body, the type that keeps her exhilarated even when her legs almost gave out minutes ago. She appreciates the break, though. It's only late afternoon but her tank top is drenching in her sweat. _Ugh, I feel gross._

Switching to a cross-legged position, Maren glances around her. It's a little crowded and her peers from her group today are sitting close by, chatting about the daily mundane. The Ahtohallan studio received a new dash of colors, replacing the grey walls with vibrant maroon and milk-white. They have also expanded the space, with more wall mirrors and refurbished lighting in different rooms, illuminating everything with a cool vibe at night. Punz said that it makes the studio's production look more cinematic, which reminds Maren, is the reason the weekends have been long and challenging so far. After all, the best way to gain popularity fast is through social media, and Punz's complex choreographies shine best not only in live performances but also on featured videos.

Maren moves her attention to the center, a few meters away from where she's sitting on the floor. The practice of new choreography is ongoing, meant to show in three's for socials with the full major performance to feature five people. Punz is at the front, instructing a group of people not over twenty so she can pick out which ones they would select in the song's groups.

She observes in silence. It's not a challenging one so far, but it works best with people who are more aligned with slower beats, which can be tricky to nail.

"…got me feelin' so incredible, five, six, seven, eight and hold," Punz instructs, making fluid arm and body waves accompanied by two sets of footwork changes. At hold, she stops with her arms in front of her, forming an almost closed circle with each palm facing downward, and instructs further.

"Love me love me baby are you down can you let me know," Punz mouths the lyrics as she does three powerful arm pops upwards. She does ten complex transitions within the pre-chorus alone until it ends with another hold, which is an evocative pose.

"Be creative at this part, express your beautiful selves here." Punz smiles with her chin up as the rest of the group plays around a bit with different poses. "Then chorus, five, six, seven, eight, I want you to feel yourselves the most here." She repeats the step, which is a sensual butterfly move towards the left, accompanied by an arm caressing motion.

"Move it up and down your left arm, like you're exposing your veins in lavish, feeling all of it. Make it real obvious no strings will ever attach, you just wanna have fun," Punz notes with a teasing tone, inciting laughter from the group.

_Wow._ The last part was oddly described, but the movement impresses Maren with how it fits so well with the song's lyrics. She already knows it's going to be a hit.

"Alright, let's try a full run from the top!" With Punz's call, the music starts.

Maren readjusts her sitting position, giving the group a little more focus. A few seconds in and everyone is doing fine so far. It's the pre-chorus' change in tempo though that Maren anticipates. And as she expected, she notices a few trips, stops, and mistakes from some people. She knew it was going to be tricky on the first try for the most part.

_Not as tricky for her, I guess._

Out of practice, Maren tries to do as Punz does, observing every dancer as much as possible through the wall mirror. But old habits die hard. Try as she might, her focus would still find its way back to one of the girls in the front row, near Punz's left side. A few missteps aren't enough to ruin her flow, her movements almost in sync with the intended rhythm.

Ever the scene-stealer, Anna Meyers still glows the brightest in a crowd.

"Alright! Let's take fifteen and we'll walk the second verse after." With the call for a break, the group dissolves away. Maren pretends to not notice the cheeky grin of the redhead walking towards her and pulls out her phone to play with it.

"So how was it?" Anna teases as she sits beside Maren on the floor, nudging her by the shoulder.

"Hmm, it was okay, but I was looking at the whole group so I missed half of it."

"Maren, please," Anna rolls her eyes, "I could feel your ogling the entire time."

"Ha, you wish." Maren retorts while tossing a hand towel at her.

"So, any plans tonight?" Anna teases again while using the towel to dry her neck. "You can come over if you want, Hans is out until tomorrow," she adds in a quieter note.

"Sorry, got some stuff to take care of with my other job so I need to go home right after."

The lie doesn't sit too well with Maren.

"Hmm."

"What?"

"That wasn't completely true, was it?"

"Whatever you say—"

"Oww!" Anna hisses in pain, her hand hovering on her left eyebrow where a piercing sits.

Maren sighs. "Tsk, I told you to avoid touching it."

"But my face feels really gross right now," Anna complains.

Another sigh. Maren takes the towel in Anna's hand, and with care, brushes her strawberry blonde fringe away and pats the towel on Anna's forehead to dry off the sweat.

Anna is blushing. "You look like a tomato," Maren drops out of nowhere.

"Oh, piss off."

Maren can feel Anna's eyes on her so she decides to break the tension. "So what's your brother up to nowadays? Still flying around the states?"

"Not as frequent as before, he actually just locked a new job the other day."

Maren can't help but notice a hint of disappointment in her voice. _She's always been easy to read._

"He'll be staying more in the city apparently, and the traveling part is cut down by a bit since he's gonna be working at a school. Wait, your other job is a TA, right? What's your school's name again?"

"Corona High, why?"

And just like that, Maren sees the energy back in Anna's eyes. "You're gonna see him around then! I think his role is called international-something coordinator?"

"Oh, something related to exchange studies then," Maren puts away the towel. "Wonder if he remembers me, we rarely met."

"Yeah, I guess. I think he will though, 'cos I didn't shut up about you." Anna says as she tucks her hair. After a pause, she takes a swig from her bottle, tightens her shoelaces, and stands up. "I'm heading back then."

As Anna walks away with a smile, Maren keeps her eyes on her back until she joins the group that has gathered back into the center, readying for the next session.

_I guess you can't run from everything in the past._

* * *

Maren rolls around her beddings and checks the time. _12:37 pm._ Her Sundays are more lenient, and today she doesn't have to go to the studio until 4 pm. Running out of ideas for distraction, she stares at the ceiling and wonders how to kill time in the next three hours.

Her stomach grumbles. _Well, there's my answer._

She crawls to the loft's fence to see if Elsa is around. "Elsa?" Maren calls for her as she climbs down. She walks around the living room and the kitchen but Elsa is still nowhere. An idea hits her, making her glance at the shoe racks. _Nope, she's here._ Turning around, she notices Elsa's door is open by an inch, so she walks over and knocks. "Elsa? Are you here?" Hearing no answer, she opens it with discretion and takes a peek inside.

The room is quiet as she walks in. Now in clear view, she sees Elsa curled up on her bed, her face looking a little scrunched. Maren places her palm on Elsa's forehead by instinct out of slight worry. _Hm, no fever. Did she sleep in this long?_ Crouching down by her bedside where Elsa faces, Maren whispers to her. "Elsa? Elsa, it's almost one. Let's grab lunch."

A murmur slips out from Elsa. _Is she dreaming?_

"Elsaaa, let's go eat."

"…hnn… Hans…"

_Huh?_ The name surprises Maren a little, making her wonder if it was the same one she knows. Whoever it is, it irks Maren a bit.

That irks her too, which doesn't help.

With a huff, Maren softly pinches Elsa's cheek, startling her enough to wake.

"Ahh, Maren, stop it, hngh…" Elsa brushes her hand away and rolls over to the other side.

"Elsa, come on."

"…it's only been four hours…"

"You can't skip lunch!"

"…five more minutes…"

"…then me too," Maren says as she slides into the blanket.

"W-what are you doing, get off!" A disheveled Elsa finally sits up and glares at her.

Outside, Maren can hear the beginnings of a rain shower. "Hmm, warm…" She murmurs as she huddles into the pillows, senses flooded with a tang of vanilla as she starts to feel dozy herself. She lets a moment pass before she contemplates leaving when Elsa lies down again.

"…alright. Come on, you're gonna fall over." Elsa readjusts the duvet, wrapping it around both of them as they huddle near the center.

Maren can hear the rain right above, washing away the thoughts of practice later. She stares at the fluttering of Elsa's lashes, the sprinkle of freckles that were often covered by foundation, and the rise and fall of her figure, lulled by the pitter-patter. _Maybe a café au lait with some rucola salad from last night's leftovers would be great when we wake up._ Maren moves in closer into the warmth when it comes up again, the irk she felt just moments ago. She wills herself to forget it, only to end up wishing that Elsa would forget the dream as well right before she finally sinks into slumber.

* * *

"Lunch?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Maren replies to Flynn who is hovering by her divider. She rarely hangs around the office, but something about today has been nagging her at the back of her mind, making her too aware of her surroundings at work. Unfortunately for her, the irk from yesterday grew into a curiosity that needs to be sated.

"You heard of the new guy downstairs? The one that replaced Smith?"

The question catches Maren's full attention. "Oh yeah, I have." She pauses, before asking him, "You've seen him around?"

"Well, I was gonna ask you that," Flynn replies while playing with his key chain. "Apparently, he already made such a strong impression, the rest of the faculty has been at it this morning. As a fellow man of the same reputation, it got me curious."

The comment makes Maren snicker. She knows as much about the air around Hans when she met him once or twice two years ago. Tall, handsome, and confident with his words. Anna resembles his presence a lot, yet the siblings maintained an awkward relationship. _"He's not a bad guy, he does look out for me,"_ Anna would say. _"We just aren't usually on the same page."_

Maren and Flynn descend the flight of stairs which leads to the hallway near the cafeteria house, a large room that used to be an auditorium, now filled with students and a few teachers from different years. With most of them already in the room, the small lobby outside its doors is empty. Or so she thinks until she sees two figures talking right outside.

"What do you think they got today—"

"Sshh!" Maren swerves to the left, pulling Flynn with her behind a corner right by the lobby.

"Uh, what's—" Flynn whispers, but Maren hushes him again as the voices become more audible.

"It's been… eight years?" It was for a brief second, but she saw a guy in a formal suit with auburn hair. Maren's sure it was Hans.

"…yeah." _Elsa._ Maren can't see them, but she hears a tinge of shyness in her voice.

"I didn't think I would get to meet you here," Hans says with a quiet chuckle. "I… guess we can see each other now and then, right?"

"…yeah, I guess we can."

"So how about takeout instead?" Maren asks suddenly, already walking opposite of the cafeteria. Maybe if she walks a little faster, she can shake off the prickling in her chest.

"Uh, sure," Flynn catches up by her side, a little confused. She hears a notification go off from his phone, which Flynn checks. "Well, I was going to ask you about _that_, but looks like Snow has it covered." He reads the text. "Apparently, Hans went to Trom Uni as well, two years senior of Elsa. Huh. You think they got history?"

"Beats me."

* * *

Maren has been fond of her evenings. Laying around the loft alone with her music and bowl of snacks, watching the last rays of late afternoons pass through the glass windows of Elsa's home; like a promise, Elsa would arrive right after, and Maren would call to her. _"Welcome home!"_

But the past few nights have been a little strange, as Maren would put it. _Like last night…_

"_Hey there!" Maren greeted Elsa, but she sensed something odd. Although Elsa nodded and smiled at her, she looked spaced out. She followed her around the dining area, the kitchen, and now the living room yet still, Elsa stayed quiet. "Want me to put on Sky Castle? I've been dying to watch it with you and it's finally up on Netflix!"_

_A moment passed until Elsa eventually answered. "Ah… later, okay? I'm a little tired." _

_They sat together and watched, with Maren, out of habit, lying down on Elsa's lap. "Uh oh, so they're actually childhood friends," Maren said, in an attempt to start a conversation with Elsa. She waited for a reply, an acknowledgment, anything, but no reaction came out of Elsa. She tried waving her hand in front of Elsa's view, but not even that elicited a reaction. _

_Maren sat up. "Elsa, are you feeling sick?" She asked, putting her palm on her forehead. Oh I get it, are you out of coffee? You didn't make any ever since you got home."_

"_Oh… I forgot." Elsa answered in a daze, and Maren just stared. She left her alone and thought that maybe a shock of sugar would wake Elsa's senses up. Arriving at the kitchen, she tried her hand at baking muffins, which as expected, never ended well. The loud clangs of falling utensils had her cursing all over the place, summoning Elsa, who looked a little irritated arriving at the sight. At the very least, Maren thought, she succeeded. She returned an apologetic smile._

Maren can't help but wonder about what's going on with Elsa. Even tonight, she's late. She has an inkling of what it is, something that could relate to _him_, but her brain refuses to entertain that thought any further. The seed has been planted, and now she's annoyed at herself.

Fulfilling her wish for distractions, she hears the turn of a lock by the door, signifying Elsa's arrival. For now, Maren will not overthink and just enjoy the night—

"I'm hooome~!"

_Oh, God_. Maren climbs down her loft to greet Elsa, only to get crushed into a hug by the latter.

"Mareeen! Have youu been a goood giiirl, huuh? C'mere you cuuutiiie..."

"Argh, you reek of alcohol!" Maren squeaks, blushing at the excessive contact she's receiving from Elsa. _She's completely different!_ "You're a mess— ow, too tight!" Elsa entangles all over her as they almost fall over. Maren catches both of them and tries to readjust herself so she can carry her to her bedroom.

"Ugh, you sure are heavy," Maren comments, now carrying her on her back.

"Come ooon… You're a daancer aren't yoouu?" Elsa teases, her head playfully rubbing against Maren's. She must have removed her hair tie at some point earlier as her hair is now down, tickling Maren's ear.

"I am not equipped with muscles to carry heavy things," Maren says in a huff, flopping Elsa on her bed.

"Hnn… take off my heels, will you?"

"Yes, yes," Maren complies, unstrapping them. "How about your suit?"

"Ooff it gooess!"

"Settle down, ma'am."

Elsa chuckles. She huddles into her pillow and Maren takes it as a signal to leave when Elsa asks something from her.

"We can do it if you like, you know. I feeel goood tonight."

Maren stares back. _She's very, very drunk._

"…not tonight."

"…hmm? Then when?" Elsa murmurs.

"Let me see," Maren kneels by her bedside. "How about… when you call me by my full name?"

"…full… name…? But your name… is Maren… right?" Elsa asks in small wonder, only to doze off to sleep.

_Well, close enough._ Maren grabs a pack of makeup remover wipes, taking one as she dabs it on Elsa's face. _Waiting isn't so bad_. In these roles they both chose to play, Maren will do her part. A light snore comes out of Elsa, whose mouth is slightly open, and is that a drool she sees? A guardless Elsa she would have never pictured or expected, a rare sight only seen by her at this moment in time.

_This role is too good to give up._

* * *

_What am I to you?_

Maren opens her eyes to the dimness of her loft. Realizing she must have fallen asleep for a short while, she grabs her phone beside her and checks the time. _10:48 pm._ She stares at the brightness of her phone, and it clicks on her that Elsa isn't home yet. _It's even later than last night._

She checks her notifications and sees a message from her.

_**Elsa**: I'll be home a little late tonight. There's some salmon from the fridge for dinner, don't wait for me._

Her phone still in hand, Maren rolls on her back, staring at the ceiling. She knows mulling over it won't get her anywhere, so she sits up to turn on the loft's lights when she hears the lock turn at the front door. The lights by the living room turn on and for a second she's elated to greet Elsa when she hears voices. Elsa isn't alone.

Maren can see Hans, who is right behind Elsa. She ducks down from the corner of her loft, in hopes to obscure herself from their sight.

"Are you okay?" Hans asks Elsa by the door.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that," Elsa answers, as she enters the hallway. "Thanks for the ride," she says while turning to Hans, and it seems she contemplated on what to do next before finally saying, "Have a good evening."

Just when Maren felt ready to hop down from the loft and give Elsa her usual greetings, Hans stops the door Elsa was closing. Maren ducks down again.

"Wait," Hans says in a quiet voice as he touches Elsa's arm. "To be honest… I've been thinking about it all day. No, ever since the past week. I know... I'm not being impetuous with this. I tried to forget you." Hans caresses Elsa's cheek.

Maren just stares from above.

"Meeting you now after all those years… I feel like I can't miss this chance again. I have to make you mine. Please, will you go out with me?"

_No way._ Maren observes Elsa's reaction, who has been looking back at Hans in silence. A moment passes before she sees Elsa's nod. It makes Hans chuckle in contentment and after a beat, moves in to kiss her.

_Hold up, she didn't even say 'yes'!_

Yet, to Maren's dismay, Elsa kisses Hans back.

A sinking feeling settles in Maren's stomach as she watches their kiss go deeper until finally, something snaps in her. Without hesitation, she covers her mouth with her hands and does the most ridiculous thing she could think of at that moment.

"Rrrwoof! Rrwoof!"

The pair separates from the kiss, Elsa startled by the noise. It doesn't stop Maren from making barking sounds.

Elsa, in a slight panic, shrieks an order. "M-Momo! Please be quiet!"

The order is loud enough to stop Maren. She doesn't know whether to laugh or worry about the aftermath of this situation. "I'm sorry, my new dog seems to be over-excited and she's very aggressive around strangers so if you'll excuse me for tonight…" Elsa huffs as she leads him outside.

"No worries… I'll see you at work then, goodnight."

Maren steels herself as she hears Elsa's footsteps closing in. "You know, I wouldn't mind you calling me that. It's a cute name." She says as she leans by her loft's ladder.

"Are you being serious right now?"

"What? What was I supposed to do, you both were going at it and I could hear _and_ see everything! You kiss pretty loudly, you know," Maren adds and she can see Elsa turn beet red from the comment.

"And that isn't any of your business!" Elsa retorts, her voice loud and irritated.

It stings Maren.

"…right, it isn't," Maren says back then nods to herself. "I'll go back to my corner and be a quiet, good girl then," she says in sarcasm as she climbs up back to her loft.

Rolling on her side opposite the ladder, Maren attempts to sleep her feelings of agitation away but fails. In annoyance, she grabs her earphones from her bag and plugs it in her phone, hoping the music would distract her away from nagging thoughts and burdensome emotions.

Maren doesn't notice how much time has passed since then, but she's still awake enough to hear Elsa call to her.

"Maren? Are you still awake? I… I heated the salmon. I saw it was untouched."

Maren doesn't reply and increases the volume of her music. But it isn't loud enough to cover the movement by the ladder.

"Maren, you can't sleep with an empty stomach."

She continues not to budge, even when her stomach growls in betrayal.

The movement gets closer and Maren tries her best to ignore it when she feels the enveloping of arms around her from behind. An embrace that has never left her mind, ever since that one late afternoon when she saw Elsa's tears for the first time.

"I'm sorry. Come on, I'll eat with you." Elsa's voice is gentle in her ears.

Maren's heart could burst.

"…fine." She says, feeling a little flushed. "I'll be there."

"Okay." Elsa removes the embrace and sits up, making her way to the ladder. Maren already misses her.

She rolls around. "Hey."

"Hmm?" Elsa looks up to her, hanging by the top of the ladder. Maren stares back, and there's a lot of words she wants to say, questions she wants to ask. But she keeps them in her and she decides to wait. She doesn't dare to search for something in Elsa's eyes, because she doesn't ever want to lose that embrace.

"Congratulations."

* * *

**Notes:**

This chapter feels like a milestone for me. Special thanks to my sister, AzimuthZero, and simplesnowflake who have been great soundboards for feedback in this chapter and the previous ones. I'm learning a lot as a writer thanks to this story.

Thank you for reading! I really appreciate your comments and kudos, so don't hesitate to open discussions. I'm on Tumblr, Twitter and other socials under the same username.


	6. Verse 6: FOOL

**Notes:**

Last edited on: October 28th, 2020

* * *

**Verse 6: FOOL**

"_It reminds me of a poem about a mountain and a queen. I can't remember who wrote it, though." _

_It was the first thing he had said to Elsa when she'd told him her name. She had known the author, but she had said nothing. Her awkward self at the time couldn't picture the thought of driving his smile away, an unfamiliar feeling she hadn't felt before._

_That late noon by the cafeteria, Hans Meyers stirred Elsa's heart just the same._

_The word spread fast at work, but they never bothered hiding their familiarity with each other, at least from what one would expect in a pair of alumni friends._

_Even though Elsa knew they used to be good at it._

_The week of their reunion had been a series of catch-ups over dinners, though Elsa would sense it spring up in between casual notes. Gently, without touching, Hans would tread around the corners of her private life, and she would do the same._

"_Anna and I found a nice complex downtown, a two-floor one. I've been thinking about getting a dog too, but we're barely at home and that would make things a little difficult." _

_Elsa fiddled with the stem of her wine glass. "Oh… how about Katherine? How is she doing?"_

_Hans paused his eating. "A lot has happened since you moved here in the north. We called off the engagement. Right after she learned about it."_

_They changed the conversation to a safer topic, not helping the questions that piled up in Elsa's mind. But neither of them dared to bring it up again._

_It got late that night and Elsa downed a few drinks more than she should have, making her miss her step at the restaurant's staircase and hurt her ankle. Hans offered to drive her home. When they arrived in her neighborhood, he assisted her on the way to her apartment._

"_Don't be silly, it's gotten really dark. I'm glad you didn't hit your head." Hans' arm wrapped around her shoulder, almost lingering. "You seem so together, but at times you can be so clumsy. It's not like you're unfit. Remember when you got lost in the lake resort?" He chuckled. "You were shy and quiet. You don't seem to have changed much."_

_A flush colored Elsa's cheeks with embarrassment. "Um, you can stop now, thank you." She glanced at Hans and caught the glint in his smiling eyes._

_They arrived at her door. The night was over and Elsa's heart twinged once more._

"_Are you okay?"_

"_Yeah, I'm really sorry about that," Elsa entered her hallway. "Thanks for the ride." She could barely look into his gaze. "Have a good evening."_

"_Wait."_

_His hand stopped her closing of the door, and in a blink of an eye, he made his way in._

"_To be honest… I've been thinking about it all day."_

* * *

"You know, I'm amazed. You, a top Trom graduate, comes up with one of the dumbest ideas I've ever heard." Punz pets her dog, a small and grey poodle that fits right on her lap.

Elsa sighs as she vacuums her carpet. "It's all I could come up with. He insisted on meeting… Momo." With the last note, Elsa swerves the vacuum's direction towards Maren, who went to grab a bag of chips from the pantry.

"Fu— stop!" Maren squeaks as she darts from the vacuum's noise and hops on the sofa.

"Tsk."

"Uh, I need to get my bag at the loft…"

"No one's stopping you."

"Stop chasing me with that thing!"

"What are you talking about, I wasn't."

"I swear…" Maren chortles. "I'm flushing all your coffee beans down the toilet."

Elsa turns off her vacuum. "I dare you." She glares at Maren who's trying hard to keep a straight face, ready to dash off at any minute. _Brat._

Not even a second later and Maren bounces off. Elsa whirls the vacuum back to life and glides it towards the brunette, who's already by the foot of the ladder, making her way up. She smiles at the giggles that she can still hear from atop.

"Well, aren't you guys just fun to watch." Punz chimes. "Anyway, I'm happy for you, really. Who would've thought you'd actually get together with him after all these years? No offense, but it's a hell of an upgrade from Nils."

Elsa sets the vacuum aside and grabs the seat in front of Punz. She pours herself a cup of black coffee, absorbing its warmth in her palms. "I know, it's going to be a breath of fresh air. I'm sick of men with an inferiority complex."

"Ha! Hans does fulfill the Three Highs."

"Three Highs?"

"High in salary, height, and educational background— relative to your standards of course," Punz recites in jest. It makes Elsa snort.

"I guess it's about time I raised the bar." _You can't take away pride from people, after all._

"Mhm." Punz plays with the rim of her cup, her eyes tracking Maren as she enters the bathroom. She leans forward towards Elsa to whisper. "And here I thought you batted for the other team and shacked with Maren."

Elsa gulps a little too much of her coffee, stinging her throat. "Don't be ridiculous," she answers in a quiet voice.

"I'm just saying. I've never seen you so… you two just get along so well."

"She's just a good friend." Elsa fiddles with the end of her braid. She watches the poodle on Punz's lap awaken, her round black eyes peering at her surroundings. "Besides, it's impossible. She technically works under me. Living together is already a risk." Elsa reaches for the glass coffee pot and pours herself another cup. "And even if she didn't, our worlds are too different. And, she's six years younger. I'm not into younger… women."

"Hm, alright. You do have a new darling now." Punz lifts the refilled cup of green tea to her lips and murmurs into it. "…and Maren's pretty occupied too, anyway…"

"Hm?"

"Nothing, nothing."

The sound of the bathroom's sliding door opening breaks their conversation, reminding Elsa to check the time. _12:43 pm._ "He should be here anytime soon. Don't you guys have a train to catch?"

"You're kicking us out already? Harsh!" Maren's dramatic comment sets off a laugh from Punz and an eye roll from Elsa.

Elsa guides them to the door. "Go on, off you go."

"Okay, okay—"

As the door opens, the pair almost walk into the figure at the doorstep, his auburn perms hovering above them.

Hans recognizes the two. "Oh! Nice to see you, Honeymare—"

"Likewise, it's been a while! Uh, we were uh, just visiting."

Elsa notices Maren glance sideways at Punz, who suddenly straightens.

"Right! Nice to meet you, I'm Punz, Elsa's cousin. Congrats on getting together," Punz shakes his hand with a smile.

Hans chuckles. "Oh, thank you. I must have arrived too early."

"No, no, it's okay, we were just leaving. And we're in a rush, so see you around and enjoy your day!"

Elsa welcomes Hans into her home with casual greetings, her mind still registering the exchange she witnessed between the three.

_Honeymaren._

* * *

Momo's sharp barks reverberate in the apartment as she runs around the living room, her grey curls bouncing with every gallop.

Hans kneels to reach for one of the toys scattered across the floor. "Aren't you a pretty little thing? She does bark quite loud like last time."

"Ah, yeah, she does." Elsa puts away their trays of snacks and joins the two. "I'm sorry, she's pretty excited."

"It's okay, it's normal," Hans reaches over to pick up Momo, who is wriggling and barking in his hold. "Who's an excited little girl?" He lifts her in the air, not foreseeing her sudden shift to calm and the golden tinkle that sprayed right at the center of his shirt.

Elsa watches in horror. _Oh my God_. "Momo! Oh, I'm so sorry—"

"It's fine—"

"You can use the shower, I-I'll get a spare shirt," Elsa shoots up, thanking herself for being big on over-sized shirts.

The day couldn't get any more awkward. Hans is sitting on her sofa, shower-fresh, now donning the shirt she gave him. It flusters Elsa. They haven't been intimate in years and the simple act of sitting next to him rattles her nerves. The memory of their last time has faded, but its imprints have been dusted away by their reunion.

Exasperated with herself, she walks towards the shelf and pretends to look for a book when she feels the enveloping of arms around her.

"Momo's asleep," Hans breathes into Elsa's ear and her heart almost stops. Carefully, he turns her around and leans down for a kiss.

_Rrrriiiinng! Rrrriiiinng!_

The shrill tone of her phone echoes in the room. Momo startles awake with barks.

"Sorry, I have to take it."

"It's fine, go ahead." Hans walks back to the sofa to comfort the agitated poodle.

Elsa grabs her phone and sees the caller's ID. _Maren._ She moves into the kitchen before answering the call.

"_Hello, this is the national association of pets—"_

"Did you need anything?" Elsa's voice is low, and somehow she's even more nervous than minutes ago.

"_Oh nothing much, just wanted to let you know that I'll be home soon. And I have some great news!"_

"Okay… but couldn't you have just texted that?"

"_Ouch. Anyway, see you soon!" _The call ends in a prompt, leaving Elsa in a daze.

Hans' voice pulls her out of her thoughts. "Time sure flies, I have to leave for an appointment."

"Oh. For your freelance business?"

"Yeah. The hustle never ends." Hans ruffles Momo, who has grown familiar with him, before walking towards the door. "I'm sorry today was rushed."

"No, I should apologize for the mess. I'll see you later."

Elsa closes the door and lets out a breath of relief she didn't know she was holding in. She heads back inside to clean up and sees Momo walking around. Crouching down, Elsa's fingers brush through Momo's fur, kneading through a wave of nostalgia that tugs at her heartstrings. Momo's thick curls are different from the softness of Marshmallow's lush fur, but her sprightliness reminds her of the latter's younger years. _Thanks for today, buddy._

She hears bustling from the hallway moments later.

"Oh, hey. How was—"

Maren embraces Elsa from behind, almost making them tumble on the floor.

"It was awesome. But the most awesome part is I can finally hog you alone by myself!"

Elsa snickers. _Why is she being such a brat?_ They both lean back by the foot of the sofa in warm comfort. The citrus scent that she bought for Maren trickles down her senses, sifting away the weariness she hasn't noticed until now.

"So what's this great news you're dying to tell me?"

"Oh, right! Ahtohallan is finally having its first open house, meaning we're holding a series of performances. So…"

"I'll come."

"Really!?"

"Yeah, let me check my schedule," Elsa reaches for her phone at the table. "Which date?"

"Punz hasn't locked it down yet, but it should be in a few weeks."

"Alright, just remind me."

Elsa feels Maren's head on her shoulder. She gazes at her cooing gestures towards her temporary grey fluff of a replacement.

"Mhm. I'll work hard."

* * *

Corona High's teacher lounges are not that spacious. They are spread throughout the departments, looking similar to one another with their kitchens, dining sets, and open-spaced sections filled with projectors and armchairs. Outside of meetings and breaks, the staff crowds them most during lunchtime.

Elsa can barely stand staying in one. She usually packs herself a sandwich to have a swift lunch, but more so to evade the stiff air that seems to surround her whenever she meets with coworkers outside of a work schedule. It's either the dry conversations or the senseless gossip that she can't do anything about, lest she ends up being the center of attraction, which wouldn't be the first time to happen.

Going out with Hans has been a give and take in the situation. No one questioned them too hard, what with both of them being esteemed coordinators who do their jobs beyond well. She has heard the phrases "college sweethearts" and "too perfect of a couple" thrown around, and Hans' vibrant presence would deflect them with a carefree demeanor. His patience with people and easygoing nature has always made him popular.

Today they're having a late lunch, and a topic springs up that catches Elsa off guard.

"I didn't know you were friends with Honeymaren too. She goes by 'Maren' now?"

"Mhm." Elsa bites into her salad wrap.

"She and Anna are close friends; they attended the same college back in Copenhamn. She was pretty popular in performances, I actually met her through one when they performed together in modern dance." Hans pulls out his phone. "Let me see, I know Anna has an album of it online… Aha! Here it is."

Elsa reaches for the phone and sees a grid of dramatic shots taken from various performances, showing silhouettes of different colors backdropped by a dark lit stage. She switches to a slide-show view and continues to browse, noticing the grace of a strawberry-blonde girl who stands out in the center of a group. "Anna sure has grown up. She looks great here."

"She was the lead of the show. Honeymaren was her partner."

As if summoning her, Elsa lands on a picture of a younger Maren, curled downwards on the floor as if she was gravity herself. She swipes through more images, each of them captured in magnificent poise, pulling Elsa in. She arrives at the last picture and it stuns her.

Maren is in the air lunging upwards, her shorter hair loose from the long braid, thrown back as she faces the light. Her arms are spread out, bare of the tattoos Elsa has grown familiar with. Elsa has never seen her this elegant, intensified by her leap with her left leg stretching backward, hoisted with a vigor that she knows Maren could only possess.

"She looks…"

"Incredible, right?"

_Majestic. Like a hawk._

"Yeah."

"It's great she's pursuing it now. Anna told me about some troubles with her family."

Elsa recalls Maren's words during one late afternoon. _"I didn't want to help run the business, so I left home." _

The day passes by, and Elsa agrees to have a customary dinner with Hans. The outings have become more frequent since they got together, but she senses the distance of the years they have missed, with the gaps in their interests wider than she presumed. He likes to talk about his old travels, his side business, and the clients he meets, which consumes much of his time outside of work.

It's tiring to pull off a good face all night, but Elsa doesn't want to let him down. She's itching to redo her lipstick, wipe the oil off her nose, and fix everything else in the ladies' room.

Elsa's mind is pulled back to Maren, zoning out Hans' voice as they eat. She wants to take off her makeup, shoes, and stockings, and run her fingers through the tangles of Maren's wavy locks as they binge a show from their list.

_Is it okay to be thinking of this now?_

Elsa excuses herself to the ladies' room. It's always the same, more so with the people she likes. The stress engulfs her, and she always has to give it her best shot, tiring her out twice as much.

They leave the restaurant and enter the city night with a chill in the air. The cold never bothered Elsa, but right now she yearns for warmth.

"You must be cold."

If Elsa says "yes", she's certain Hans would hold her. "No, I'm fine, thanks."

Her answer falls on deaf ears as Hans removes his coat and wraps it around her shoulders. "You don't have to be so tough. Not in front of me."

Does she deserve his kindness? Is she worth it? The more Elsa thinks about it, the more she wants to run away. She wants to trample the acts and expectations, to let him in and take his warmth, but her walls refuse to fall.

She arrives home exhausted, not long after greeted by Maren.

"You tired?"

Elsa flops on the sofa. "Yeah, a little."

"Do not fret." Maren pulls out something from behind. "Tada! I prepped your favorite Mr. Sheep-Eye-Cooler for you!"

"Oh!" Elsa takes the eye cooler and puts it on, relaxing her head in bliss. "Ah, this is heaven."

"Elsa, you're drooling."

"Did you have dinner?"

"Nope."

Elsa sits up, peeling off the eye cooler. "Why didn't you get takeout?"

"Wasn't in the mood, and I'm sick of it."

"What am I gonna do with you…" In a beat, Elsa is at the stove frying something quick, the whiff of roasted garlic, white rice, broccoli, and juicy prawns permeating the kitchen.

Maren digs into her bowl. Her glee radiates across the table, kindling a glow of contentment within Elsa's chest.

"Something good happened?"

"Huh?"

"You're smiling."

"Oh." Elsa blushes. "You look so happy while eating, it got to me."

"Well," Maren insinuates as she plays with her spoon, "you can be with me all the time then. I'm happy twenty-four-seven, all year round."

"I don't think any sane person would like that. I wouldn't want it transferred to me."

"Now you're just being mean!"

_So why is it that I never feel tired with Maren by my side?_

* * *

"Oaken's Resort?"

"Yeah, it's been around for a few years now, but they got pretty famous recently with their new renovations and shops." Hans drops two sugar cubes into his latte. "The restaurant is the biggest attraction. Apparently, their customer service is top-notch. They have a pool, a spa, and they even allow pets too."

"Oh, wow."

Hans chuckles. "Wow? I'm subtly inviting you."

"Oh." Elsa sips her cup of black coffee.

"How about it? Let's plan it with your schedule."

A weekend holiday. It's been a while since Elsa's last trip, so she ends up agreeing.

When she arrives home, she takes a while to let Maren know.

"By the way—" Elsa and Maren blurt simultaneously.

Maren grins, eyes twinkling. "Oh, you can go ahead."

Elsa puts on her apron, preparing a casserole. "I'll be out the weekend after next week."

"Oh… The seventh and eighth?"

"Yeah. You have any plans?"

"Hm… Nope." Maren turns on the PS4 with her controller. "Where you goin'?"

_A one night holiday with my boyfriend_. Somehow, it's awkward to say it to Maren. "Just a formal get-together with some distant relatives."

Maren smiles. "Okay. I'll be chilling around."

"So, you were going to say something?"

"Oh, nah, nothing important."

Elsa watches Maren turn around to the TV. Somehow, the sight of Maren's back twinges her chest.

* * *

Elsa is meticulous with packing. The anxiety of forgetting something never sits well with her so she ends up spending too much time for it before any trip. The weekend get-away with Hans is only for two days and one night, but here she is, sitting on her bed as she wonders for the umpteenth time which lingerie she should bring. _God, Elsa._

She opens one of her drawers and looks at her large blue zipper pouch in the corner she has personally dubbed as The Absolute Essentials. The contents comprise paraphernalia in sky blue and white colors. It's a collection of cutesy skincare products, toiletries, and even soft cottoned socks and a white robe. She orders them online from Nippon, a ritual of self-treatment she has been maintaining ever since she visited the mainland on the other side of the world.

Elsa shuts the drawer when she remembers that she'll be in the same room with Hans. _I won't die without them for a day._

"Don't forget emergency snacks."

Elsa's heart almost drops. "Wh— can you not sneak on me like that?"

"What do we have here?" Maren quips as she looks at Elsa's suitcase. "You look like you're going on an excursion. Been a while since you last saw your folks?"

"Y-yeah."

Maren sits on the bed cross-legged. "If you had to choose three items to bring to a deserted island, what would you take?"

"Deserted island?"

"Yeah. I was skimming through the syllabus out of boredom and it's a class activity."

"I wonder…" Elsa pauses her folding with an earnest look. "A lighter is a given, and since technology wouldn't be much of a use, I guess I'd bring some books with me…"

Elsa gives it more thought when she feels the poking on her knee. She faces the brunette, greeted by a mischievous smile, and it clicks. "I'm not bringing you with me."

Maren's scowls. "Wh— How rude!"

"You? At a deserted island? I suppose you wouldn't get lost _there_."

"Please. Don't regret it when you cry from loneliness."

"As if I would."

_Something I can't live without for a day... I wonder what that might be._

* * *

_**Rapunzel**: I'm stopping by your place. Maren hurt her ankle_

Worry descends on Elsa, her fingers flying across the screen.

_**Elsa**: Is she okay?_

_**Rapunzel**: Yea, no worries! She just twisted it a lil too hard during a rehearsal. She just needs some rest_

Elsa distracts herself with menial chores in the apartment until the two arrive.

Punz drops Maren off, apologizing for running to attend errands for her stepmother. "Get your rest and keep me updated, okay?"

Maren stumbles every few steps, her right ankle bandaged.

"Should we have it checked?"

"Hm, maybe… I might go if you come with me tomorrow."

"T-tomorrow?"

"Just kidding." Maren swings her leg around. "I think it'll be fine with a night's rest. Don't worry, I'll stay still at home."

Elsa meets with Hans the next morning by a café before they drive to the town resort. It takes two hours until they arrive at Oaken's. They check into the hotel, one of the slick grey buildings that surround the area, before they head into the cluster of wooden cottages where most tourists gather. The aroma of roasted barbeque, chorizo, and grilled trouts greet them as they walk around looking for a place to eat, but Elsa's appetite won't come to her.

She sends a message to Maren.

_**Elsa**: How are you? Does your ankle still hurt?_

"Pretty great, isn't it?" Hans dips his bread in olive oil.

Elsa grabs a piece of bread and peeks at her notifications. Nothing from Maren.

They walk around more after eating and stumble upon a street of tiny antique shops of different kinds. From ancient fans to jars and pots of various forms and sizes, they are stacked outside by entrances, ready for visitors to ogle. Mixed in with the region's souvenirs are special imports curated by Oaken's company, a tradition preserved from the owner's history with trading that dates back centuries.

The pair walk into a shop filled with wooden animal sculptures, carved in larger than life detail. Miniature leopards of different postures fill the shelves, and life-sized deer heads hang the walls, the life in each work filled to the brim.

Elsa stops by the bird section. Her eyes hop from one to another, fascinated by the colors imbued in their feathers. From the parrots, sparrows, and the hummingbirds, she can only imagine the love poured in each carve. She reaches the end of the section when something catches her eye and stops her tracks.

A large hawk coated in shades of dark brown is suspended by the ceiling, depicted in its hunting stance. Its proud wings sprawl in the air, claws ready to grasp its prey.

It's almost identical to Maren's tattoo.

"_So whatcha think?"_

"_Hm?" Elsa rubbed orange gel between her palms and proceeded to massage Maren's scalp._

"_Usually, people would be a little curious by the number of feathers they'd see on my back. You've seen it a couple of times by this point."_

_Of course, Elsa had noticed. She'd seen the drape of wings that wrapped Maren's arms on the night she found her. The rest of the hawk's body had been revealed to her when she had vented her pent up emotions over work for the first time to anyone. It was a cloak of feathered body and tail that hugged the taut muscles of Maren's back._

"_I think it's remarkable. Did it hurt a lot?"_

"_A bit."_

_She hesitated to ask more._

"_It hurt, but I felt reborn. Kinda corny, I know. But it's like, finally being comfortable in your own skin. I feel like I can do anything. I feel like myself."_

"_No, I get it." Elsa knew that tattoos can be personal. An intimate look into a person's soul she didn't want to breach. _

_Maren had let her in, and it elated her._

Elsa's nerves are killing her. At this point, Maren hasn't answered a single message she sent throughout the past few hours. She excuses herself from Hans and walks outside to make a call.

Maren isn't answering on any messenger. She tries again and the answering machine activates.

"I wonder if these black flakes are truffles. What do you think, Elsa?"

"Oh, what about the traffic?" Elsa's head snaps up from her plate of dessert, which has become the object of her distraction for the past thirty minutes. And how is it dinner time already?

Hans gives her an amused look. "Are you tired? Maybe we should go back to our room and get some rest?"

A thought occurs to Elsa. "I'm sorry, I just need to make a call."

She dials Punz in as she wanders by the restaurant's exit. _Please pick up._

"—_Hey Els—"_

"Punz, sorry to disturb you if you're busy. Did you talk to Maren today?"

"—_S—sorry, just need to m—ve somewhere— okay! What's up?"_

Elsa calms her jitters. "Have you talked to Maren?"

"_Oh! Yeah, I mean, we've been together all day, it's our first open house! Maren insisted she's well enough to perform. She told me you were going to come! I was so busy the whole week just so I could have today locked and I was sure she pestered you. You're out of the city?"_

Elsa hears the cheers of the crowd and the loud dance music in the background. "Y-yeah, I am, I'm sorry."

"_No worries, girl! We still have more planned later!"_

It doesn't stop the harrowing feeling in Elsa's stomach.

She bids goodbye to Punz and she knows the next thing to do. Without hesitation, she talks to Hans and tells him an incident about Momo and other things she conjures at the moment. A lie that doesn't come close to the contempt she feels for herself, seeded by that time she gazed at Maren's back last week.

Elsa arrives home late that night, her apartment empty. She receives a text from Punz, who once again drops Maren off on the way home.

Maren enters the stillness of the living room. "You're back already?"

Their eyes meet. "It was today."

Maren hisses from a step. "Oh, yeah. Don't worry, I compromised with the moves."

"But it looks like it still hurts," Elsa mutters as she moves closer to Maren, her chest aching with each step.

"Hm, yeah, a little." Maren grabs a seat by the dining room, her gaze fixed on her foot as she gingerly rotates it. "But it was my fault for getting hurt in the first place. A pro needs to own up her mistakes."

Overcome with a myriad of emotions, Elsa wraps her arms around Maren. "I'm so sorry."

She tightens her embrace, afraid to face Maren's own walls. Afraid of being locked out forever.

As if her pleas were heard, Elsa feels Maren's arms around her, and she is forgiven.

"Hey, it's okay. There's always a next time."

_If I ever go to a deserted island, I promise to take you with me._

* * *

**Notes:**

Special thanks to simplesnowflake and Hydroxide for helping me polish this chapter. You guys rock.


	7. Verse 7: Stay With Me

**Notes:**

Last edited on: October 28th, 2020

* * *

**Verse 7: Stay With Me**

_Four beats, make it to the second slide, switch it to two beats, and then leap. _She pictures an apparition, dispersing it through her fingertips, pulling the strings that give life to the verse of her soul.

Maren finds herself.

But it's never enough. She leads herself to the succor of others, attaching to their strings, reveling in their aria until they become one in chorus.

Yet it lingers—the monster of expectations that threaten to devour her in each step she takes.

All it takes is one slip and she'll be left behind.

So she works harder, pushing through each jump and polishing every turn. She is grateful to the promised cadence and clings to it like a lifeline. No matter the outcome, she takes a chance to see beyond that reverie she yearns for.

Out of everyone, only Anna has led her to euphoric synchrony.

Anna seemed sporadic when they first met, bearing a clumsiness you'd never expect from an adept performer. She was eighteen when Maren entered her orbit. Quirky, bright, and always wearing an alluring smile—she was like the sun, with energy that assured Maren's own, both on and off the dance floor.

Time after time, it pulls in Maren. And like a vow, Anna would meet her.

Where was she again? _Half beat... no, quarter beat...? Then, lift here._ She dives further, savoring the familiar tang of sweet strawberry, enrapturing her as always. Anna welcomes her in, their tongues colliding in soft harmony. She feels quivering lips as she caresses behind Anna's ear.

A small whine hums through Maren's senses as she bites the plump of Anna's lower lip.

Anna curls, the tremor of her core thrumming under Maren's touch. "Let's get out of here." She looks at Maren, eyes dilated.

Teal orbs that Maren used to never run away from. She almost gives into them.

Yet once more, they hold her back. Platinum wisps that touch the smile of her eyes, affectionate fingers that would comb away her worries, vanilla trails that remind her she has a home; pieces of Elsa she has tucked away, enclosed in the corner of her heart. She would always be there, beckoning her over, enough to make her ache.

"I can't. I'm broke."

"I can pay."

Maren inches away, untangling herself from Anna's arms. "I can't be home too late."

"...What?"

"I don't want to worry her." Maren leans back by the staircase of an alley they've been occupying for the past hour. The ground is cold underneath her palm.

Anna stares back at her, broken away from their moment. She knows.

"Maren," Anna hisses in a strained voice, "my brother is dating Elsa."

"I know."

"Then what the hell are you doing?"

Maren sighs. She wants to run again, back home into those arms, away from this cruelty that suffocates her. "I can go with you, but only for thirty minutes. Or should I just do you here, right now? While nobody's arou—"

It's too late for her to dodge it. The hard leather bottom of her backpack scrapes her cheek, not enough to draw blood, but it still stings.

Anna stands up. "You're a fucking jerk."

Maren catches the suspended tears in Anna's eyes before she sees her pace down the stairs. Her silhouette drowns in the street crowd, her every step leaving Maren rooted in place.

* * *

Even when Elsa is not around, she can sometimes feel it: Elsa's fingers running through her hair as stories about the daily mundane lull her away in comfort. She wonders how long she can keep that happiness to herself. The uncertainty of it continues to grow, wrapping around her heart.

And so Maren continues to dance.

"Anna's pissed at you, huh."

"Mhm." Maren bends forward, stretching her right leg. She peeks sideways at her fellow dancer.

With a lanky build bearing a few inches taller than her, Ryder is popular for his pretty face and charisma, framed by his dark shaggy hair kept in place by a beanie he's never seen without. People often mistook them for siblings, with their shared physical features and their hometown, where their families live a few blocks apart from each other in the southern part of North Uldra. He has become like a younger brother to her in the past few months, with his playful and somewhat clingy nature touching her soft spot.

"I don't get it, why don't you just say no to her advances?"

Maren stretches her other leg. "I don't have it in me. And she doesn't get it. We can keep up what we have, but nothing more than that." _I mean, we already tried it._ "I can't give her the extent of what she wants."

"Uhuh." Ryder leans back on the wall mirror. "Then, what about that lady you live with?"

Maren relaxes from stretching. "How much did Anna tell you?"

"Well, she kinda bitched about you just being an overall jerk, but not much else. And you're still staying with that nice lady who took you in months ago. I just pieced the two together." Ryder sits beside her and stretches.

Maren snickers. "I'm not dating my roommate if that's what you're wondering. We're..." _Friends? Acquaintances?_ She's given up putting a label on whatever she has with Elsa.

Besides, the one she craves remains out of reach.

"I don't really know how to word it… but I'm her tranquilizer."

* * *

Maren has always been an early riser. On the weekends, she's up as early as seven. She would go to the bathroom, drink some water in the kitchen, jog for an hour around their neighborhood, and do her light stretching back at her loft before returning under her covers.

Then Elsa wakes up.

Maren listens to her get ready, preparing their brunch for the day, its scent filling the apartment. She pretends to be asleep as she hears Elsa call her name from below, sometimes accompanied with a sigh, which makes her smile because she knows what comes next: Elsa's footsteps coming closer as she hears her climb up, crawling to Maren's side, waking her up one more time. Maren would feel Elsa's fingertips brush away her messy fringe, tickling her heart, completing the start of her day.

Today, she doesn't go to practice.

"Is this okay?" Elsa pushes one of her sofas towards the wall, making more space for Maren's mat.

"Yeah, it's great, thanks." Maren stretches both her legs until they make a perfect split, then bends her body forward, her chest touching the floor. She can feel Elsa's eyes on her back.

"You sure are flexible."

Maren rises and grins. "I'd be in trouble if I wasn't."

Skipping sessions is acceptable if you have committed to attending later on with the extra lessons. Maren tries to avoid this to not pile them up and burn herself out, but for today, she wants to avoid something else. Or rather, a certain someone. _Coward._

Before she chastises herself further, she tunes into the noise from the TV instead.

"_Continuing the ongoing mission to supply provisions for the Southern States that suffered from Hurricane Gale, the Ministry of Education, on behalf of the Northern States, has presented supplementary reading and classroom materials, held on a special event in Puerto Lobos. Attendees comprise almost a hundred, including teachers and principals from public schools around the area alongside representatives from the Ministry, including Deputy Secretary Edward Tremaine."_

The report seems to have caught Elsa's attention, who has placed her duster down to increase the volume. A well-dressed bearded man in his fifties is now in focus, with his brown and grey locks gelled in place.

"'_We're proud of our commitment and shared goal to keep this project running, and to further improve the quality of education for all children not just in Puerto Lobos, but for nearby islands as well.' Secretary Edward has raised almost 120 million crowns for the project…"_

"They better spend it on the right things," Elsa quips as she returns to her dusting.

"Not impressed?"

"Hard to be, especially when you've been groped by the deputy secretary himself."

Maren almost falls from her side planking. "W-what!? How? Where? When?" She gives up and sits upright, sudden annoyance building up inside of her.

Elsa sighs. "I met him at a conference four years ago, right when I just started working. I was networking around during the after-party. He was a bit drunk, I guess. We were at a table sitting together, then he reached around and I jumped up."

"And?" Maren stands up and follows Elsa to the kitchen area.

"He kept insisting he just touched my back, so I replied, a little loudly, that he was touching my ass instead."

"Oh my God."

"And, that was apparently not enough to stop him." Elsa grabs a spray bottle from the cupboard and fills it with water. "He was about to push himself on me, so, well, I punched him before he could."

"No way."

"They were desperate to keep me quiet. They even offered monetary compensation. I couldn't be bothered at the time, so I just kept quiet." Elsa walks over to the kitchen counter, where two small pots of sweet violets sit. "Your brows are gonna join into one."

"Wh— I'm pissed! I can't believe they asked you to keep quiet!"

"There's nothing I can do about it. He's not just some deputy secretary, he's a Tremaine, and that could mean years of involvement in a case over a small incident."

_You were harassed!_ "But—"

"I can handle myself. Anyway, what do you want for dinner?"

"Uh... I'm good with anything." Maren watches Elsa water the pots' soil with care. She's gotten a hold of Elsa's mood on whether she wants to keep a topic going or not, which can go sour if she steps too far. She plays along, noticing the distant look Elsa is holding towards the tiny buds of sweet violets.

* * *

The next morning, Elsa wakes up from a bad dream. Or at least that's what Maren assumes. It's usually the case when the first thing she sees is her scrunched up face, lost in thought while turning the coffee machine on.

"Didn't sleep well?"

"Hardly." Elsa takes a sip before continuing. "I… dreamt about Nils."

"Ah, the ex. Don't worry, that's just your brain fucking with you, it's more common than you think."

Nils works in their IT department. Or used to, with his departure mentioned at work last week. Elsa told Maren the story of how she'd met Nils a few years ago, a random click she hadn't expected to happen over an after-work dinner that had revolved around conspiracy theories. The relationship seemed to work, even when Elsa was aware of Nils' inferiority complex not dissipating over the years. Or so Elsa thought before Nils came clean to her about his infidelity on the night she expected to receive a proposal.

During their time of living together for three months, Maren has seen these glimpses of Elsa's past. She wonders if Elsa is the same as her; someone who has a hard time letting go and is only ever good at running away.

Wanting to cheer Elsa up, Maren digs into the kitchen drawers.

"What are you looking for?"

"Oh, this pack of jasmine tea I got as a gift from the studio. I've never had it before… aha!" Maren picks up a yellow tin box with intricate designs of orange flowers and Eastern characters. "I think this is, uh, traditional, so I don't really know how to prepare it?"

"It's easy." Elsa prepares two mugs and a pitcher of boiling water. "It should blossom into a little flower." She puts a jasmine flower in a mug and pours the water in it.

Maren watches over, seeing the petals unveil themselves, one by one. "Oh, there it goes!"

"It's quite slow, but it's lovely, isn't it?" Elsa smiles as she prepares the other mug, giving it to Maren.

They relax in their seats, enjoying the aroma of sweetness and floral scent enveloping them.

It takes a moment for Maren to notice that Elsa has been staring at her. She doesn't get her chance to ask as Elsa goes back to her drink in an instant, but she's not sure if it's the intoxicating scent that caused Elsa's cheeks to color in the shade of roses.

* * *

Elsa isn't an alcoholic, but there are a few nights when she does drink a lot, and it's when Maren knows that Elsa's desperate to let go of things weighing on her mind. Maren doesn't drink at all, and the sentiment of forgetting through alcohol is lost on her. She's seen old friends and past flings inhale drinks to _prove_ it works for them, but she'd never dare to leave herself in such a vulnerable state.

Loud clangs in the hallway interrupt Maren's thoughts.

It's a late Friday night so Maren knows what to expect. Tonight, however, Elsa is more wasted than usual, huddled up on the floor when Maren meets her.

"Hey, you okay?"

"…hnn… toilet…"

"Wait, your heels—" Maren follows Elsa, who has stood up, stumbling towards the bathroom. Inside, she watches her kneel in front of the toilet bowl, retching out whatever she had that day.

Elsa's hair bun loosens after the third heaving, and Maren walks over to sweep aside her hair, holding it back as she rubs circular motions on Elsa's back.

"I'll help you to bed, you should get some rest."

"I… want to take a bath…"

"I don't think you should—"

"I want to clean up!" Elsa starts taking off her suit, then her polo shirt, prompting Maren to step out.

Feeling worried as Elsa can barely stand, Maren sticks around outside the sliding door, leaning against the opposite wall as she listens to the running water and Elsa's movements.

Maren was right. It only takes a few minutes until she hears a loud thud.

She rushes off to collect towels and heads inside, seeing Elsa's naked body curled up inside the tub, shivering. She turns off the shower and dries Elsa off, wondering where she will carry her until she remembers the large Tyrian purple blanket in the living room, the same one she woke up in on the first morning she spent in Elsa's home.

After spreading the blanket on the sofa, Maren returns to the bathroom and carries Elsa out of the tub, steeling her mind from the softness of her milky white skin under her touch. She tightens her grip, afraid of her smaller build giving out, though in tender closeness as she hears Elsa's fatigued murmurs. She wonders for a moment if Elsa is awake enough to feel the drumming of her chest.

Maren lays Elsa down on the sofa and wraps her in the blanket, checking her head for any injury. Her eyes flutter awake.

"How many fingers can you see?"

"Two…"

"Good." Maren caresses the side of Elsa's head. "I think you have a small lump."

"…You know, it's not like I've always been good at cooking."

"Hm?"

"I didn't want people to think I just focused on work and studying. That… I can also do different things. I wasn't just one thing they labeled me with. To be honest, I was desperate."

Maren sits on the floor by Elsa's side.

"Maren?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever hate and envy other people?"

"Well…" Maren readjusts her position. "…of course. Especially when I'm judged because of where I come from. And I can't help but be jealous of people who have more than me, in talent, money, or whatever.

"It can't be helped with the world we live in, but I like to think that people like that have their own problems to deal with too. You can't change things out of your control, especially with envy or hatred. In the end, it's all about fighting with yourself… right?"

Elsa turns towards her direction, still laying on her back, but now with eyes closed.

"Are you asleep? You'll catch a cold if we don't get you to bed—"

"Perhaps I should just… live with you for the rest of my life…"

Elsa says the words like an honest declaration, with a face of serenity that puts Maren in a stupor.

Maren does the only thing she can think of doing next.

She moves in and puts her lips on Elsa's.

Elsa doesn't reject her.

It's like that jasmine flower. Softening and opening as each petal unveils itself, one by one. Let time stand still, and let this be the only thing that Maren feels.

But Maren knows she can't have that wish. She's not surprised when Elsa abruptly pushes her back and stands up. She can see the rose tint on Elsa's cheeks, spreading out to the tip of her ear.

"I… I need sleep."

Maren watches as Elsa walks to her room, dragging the blanket wrapped around her. The bedroom door is already closed when Maren notices the ends of the blanket trapped under it.

She walks over. Maren can feel Elsa standing on the other side of the door, her warmth and doubt penetrating the distance. A few minutes pass and neither of them moves from their spot. Maren waits for Elsa's decision, though she wonders if she should open the door and make the decision herself.

In the end, she doesn't, and they continue the dance around this moratorium.

* * *

The next weekend, Maren answers the door to find Nils on their doorstep.

Nils is an awkward guy with dirty blonde hair parted in the middle and is always seen with thick-rimmed glasses that fit his square-shaped face. He's of short and lean stature, around Maren's height. He's not bad-looking by any means, but Maren can understand how his inferiority complex shows, not from his appearance, but by the way he carries himself in public.

Maren isn't sure how to handle this, so she goes back inside calling for Elsa. She sees her at the balcony, tending to her collection of plants, wearing gloves dirtied by soil. Elsa fiddles with her braid, irritated at first when she hears about Nils at the door but lets him in with a defeated sigh in the end.

"I thought you threw out everything I gave you." Nils walks into the dining area, illuminated by the midday sun coming through the balcony's opening. He looks at the small pots of sweet violets sitting in a corner, right beside bigger pots of new guinea impatiens and hibiscus flowers, which Elsa was tending moments ago.

Elsa stays in silence, brooming the dirt off the floor.

"Don't worry, I won't be long. I just wanted to see you before I leave the city."

"I don't have anything to talk about with you."

Maren takes that as her cue to give them space, but she lingers close enough to eavesdrop.

"I didn't know you had a guest today. I didn't mean to intrude—"

"She's living with me."

"Sorry?"

Elsa stands up, wiping dirt off of her apron. "We're living together. Rather, I'm letting her live with me. I take care of her food and everything."

It stuns Maren. _Has she lost it!?_

"Oh, I don't know what to say." Nils crosses his arms, dismay seeping in his voice. "Isn't this inappropriate? Isn't she working under you right now? Elsa, this isn't you. Was my… was my affair that much of a shock to you?"

"…What?"

"Isn't she taking advantage of your kindness? She's leeching off you! You should be careful of people like her, who give up their pride to get what they want. And… and she might be from some secret gang of North Uldrans—"

"I dare you to finish that sentence." Elsa walks inside the dining area, closing the balcony's sliding doors. Even from afar, Maren can sense the anger radiating from Elsa's every movement.

"I dare you to say another thing about her. I don't know about this pride you're talking about, but I'll tell you what." Elsa stares hard into Nils's eyes. "A man who's confident about himself doesn't care about where people stand.

"You always used to say, oh, you're so lucky, you're so smart, you went to such a great uni, your pay's so good, you have it so easy, how lucky! You never considered how sick and tired I was of hearing that bullshit from everyone. And in the end, you ran away! Some pride you have.

"All you could do was envy what others have without doing anything about it, drowning yourself in self-pity, never considering my feelings, not even once. And Maren… is leagues ahead of you in that way."

Silence descends in the room, and Maren can see Elsa cooling down. Opposite of her, Nils looks defeated.

"It's… as you say." Nils lets out a breath he's holding. "But I'm glad… to hear your honest opinion. When we broke up, you never said a thing like this. We didn't even fight or argue. It's bothered me ever since."

He gathers himself and heads towards the hallway. "I'll be off then."

Maren catches him by the door. "Wait."

Nils turns reluctantly to face her.

"The reason I stick around is simple. It's not about pride or confidence. I just want to be next to her, and she lets me. That's all."

Maren shuts the door and returns inside. She sees Elsa crouching outside the balcony, the smallness of her back making Maren's heart swell.

Elsa's words from the other night come back to her. They never talked about it, nor the kiss, and it's hard to take Elsa seriously when she's drunk anyway.

But Maren is sure of one thing.

"Elsa." Maren joins her and looks out to the city. "You know, I'll stay here until you tell me to leave."

"Don't be silly."

"I'm serious."

"…even if it's for a few years?"

"Yep." Maren peeks at Elsa, whose loose bangs shine under the sun, her side braid exposing the outline of her nape in elegance. She seems to be making an effort to hide her face, which Maren thinks is pointless.

Maren will always see her.

"Even if I turn into a granny?"

A joke, though with a tinge of shyness that attempts to hide the sincerity of the question. And Maren knows the answer. From behind, she wraps her arms around Elsa, hugging her close as if to never let go.

"Even if you turn into a granny."


	8. Verse 8: fall

**Verse 8: fall**

"Can't you nag Weasletown one more time for me?"

"I can, but you'll just get the same answer. The new gym comes first, and the renovation starts in two weeks. You'll have to wait until next year for the new auditorium to be considered."

"Ugh."

Elsa gives a sympathetic look at the miffed posture of Megara Bitharis, the new head of their drama department. Megara has been busy revitalizing the department in the past couple of months, which lacked organization until her arrival. It's been a resounding success so far, which is exactly what Elsa expected from someone with a theatre background as rich and professional as Megara's. Elsa gets the sense that putting high schoolers into their places is nothing more than an entertaining warm-up for her.

Megara is popular for another reason: her alluring disposition combined with her elegant Romaic features. She's almost a decade older than Elsa, yet her chic style and coy sense of humor allow her to vibe with students with more familiarity, making her a student-favorite.

Yet, despite being the opposite of Elsa's stiffness, they both share a confronting nature towards cheeky comments thrown behind their backs (or sometimes, tossed in front of their faces), making Megara a comfortable acquaintance to chat with. Elsa would argue Megara handles those situations with more grace, while she's more likely to leave a ticking time bomb in place, with no way for the other party to avoid it.

Elsa doesn't mind if they become friends.

"Is the classroom hopping option no good?"

"Well," Megara crosses her legs as she sweeps her long auburn locks on her shoulder, "Jane dear has been helping me sort it out in her free time, but it's still such a hassle. The class is over by the time we get things settled."

Elsa rests her chin on her hand. "I can try to be more persistent next time. And if he says no, I'll figure out something else."

Megara's hopeful look turns into a pleased grin. "Oh Elsie, you're simply the best."

Elsa's brows furrow over the nickname, but it's joined with a smile.

"Oh, don't give me that look. You're way too uptight for your age, Your Majesty."

"I—"

"And you should call me Meg when it's just us. Every time I hear you say 'Miss Bitharis', I think I'm in trouble."

Elsa chuckles. Somehow, she feels shy.

Before she can make a retort, a familiar figure by the other side of her glass walls catches her eye. Megara notices and walks to the door to let them in.

"_Miss Heidi!_ So good to see you!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb your—"

"No, no, I'm done with my business. Never mind that—you, sweetheart, were fantastic last weekend!" Megara places her hand on her chest. "I feel lucky to be working with such young talents. You should have seen her performance, Miss Larsen, it was just stellar."

_I did. I was in the front row._

"Thanks—"

"And you sure were an eyeful that evening. I bet boys—_and_ girls—have been on your tail. I don't judge." Megara ends with a teasing tone.

Elsa shoots an amused look at Maren who's all smiles, looking flustered from Megara's flaunting praise.

She clears her throat.

"Right, I won't hold you ladies off any longer. Have a lovely evening." Megara chimes as she sashays outside, leaving them alone.

"Ma—Miss Heidi, is there anything you need?"

Maren sits down by Elsa's desk and throws her a confused look. "Um… it's just us, you know."

"Yes, I know," Elsa sighs, "I just don't want to make it a habit while we're at work." She leans back and gives Maren a proper look. It feels like yesterday when Maren introduced herself to Elsa on her first day.

They were strangers then.

"So, you need something?"

"Right. Uh, I need to ask for a leave of absence. Around two weeks?"

"…let me check." Elsa turns to her computer, trying to register what Maren said. "It should be fine, we have a substitute queued up." She contemplates for a few moments before asking, "Where are you going?"

"Oh, just this big dance seminar in Los Santos. We're going to be a small group from different companies, and we'll do a lot of workshops with choreographers over there."

Los Santos, the city of dreams. Located on the other side of the country. "That's… quite far."

"Don't worry, Punz figured a way to cover all costs and food. Oh, and I've already packed up to meet everyone at a hotel, so I won't be coming home tonight. Flight's tomorrow."

"Oh, okay." Elsa faces her computer again and busies herself writing emails, unsure of what to say next.

"Elsa?"

"Hm—" A hug from behind surprises her. How did Elsa not hear her? "M-Maren!" She glances sideways. "Someone might see—"

"It's three in the afternoon, everyone's clocked in class. Anyways, this is more important." Maren tightens her hug, playfully swaying Elsa. "Don't miss me too hard, okay? I'll text you when I'm there."

Two weeks can feel like a long time. The first two weeks she spent with Maren painted over her old normal like a splash of iridescence on a blank canvas. As if it was meant to be that way for a lifetime.

So Elsa caves, relaxing into Maren's warm embrace and soaking up her comforting citrusy scent.

"…take care."

* * *

"Achoo!"

"Caught a cold? You should make some ginger tea. Hot baths are great, too."

_Well, I'm only sick because I fell asleep in one._ "T-thanks, I'll be fine." Spending last night in the bath sulking over a stressful workday may not have been the best idea. But it wasn't like she could have texted Maren, who was thousands of feet above and hundreds of miles away from Arendale. She would have to wait for a text from her later tonight.

Elsa looks down at her packed lunch. It's an assorted set of stir-fried vegetables with chicken on Basmati rice. She opens her small container of sweet Thai sauce and empties it over her meal. It's Maren's favorite; she prefers her sauce with chili and keeps a hawk's eye on Elsa on the days they have it to make sure it makes it into her lunch pack.

"I think you should rest. Do you want to come over after work?"

"Oh, don't worry. I don't want to disturb—"

"It's okay, Anna moved out the other day." Hans wipes the breadcrumbs from the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "She's been planning it since I told her about us. I kept telling her to stay since I don't find it to be an issue at all, but that girl is stubborn." He scooches over and wraps his arm around Elsa's shoulder.

Elsa leans into Hans' sturdy hold and feels safe. She used to long for it as she observed him from afar all those years ago, enough to make her heart twinge. Now, his scent is always nearby to promise that security, and she treasures it.

But in his arms, it feels like she's standing on glass. She's wary of it breaking with the slightest misstep, dragging him with her into the pits of her insecurities. She can't let Hans in, let alone close enough to see through the glass below them and glimpse her ugly cracks.

"I'm sorry, I have to take care of some things at home."

"No problem, babe." Hans holds her closer, giving her a light kiss on the top of her head.

* * *

_**Punz**: You know, u don't have to wait for her to text you. Just shoot her one_

_**Elsa**: I can't do that. I don't want to bother her…_

_**Punz**: Okaaayy_

Elsa turns onto her other side on the sofa. She grabs a pillow to cover the side of her head, and another one to hug. The colors of the TV playing a cooking show dance around the dim room, its sounds barely edible.

She hears a ping from her phone.

_**Punz**: You sure spoil that kid_

_**Elsa**: ...what do you mean?_

_**Punz**: Els, pls. How long have yall been living together?_

_**Elsa**: Around three months_

_**Punz**: right. You give her food, a room, etc. And in that short amount of time, yall have... clicked so well. You lose ur cool sometimes over her. Ur practically her mother hen_

_**Punz**: look, im really happy whenever i see you two._

_Punz is typing…_

Elsa's anxiety rises. Punz has always been perceptive; the voice of reason she looks for but sometimes avoids.

Punz makes it harder to keep Pandora's Box shut.

_**Punz**: dont take this the wrong way but, you were kinda hard to approach, even after we've become friends. And you've changed since maren came along. You smile more, and you've become more talkative too. I can see what she means for u_

_**Punz**: but also, shes a grown woman. You dont need to overworry. She may not look it cos u take care of her but she can handle her own_

Elsa sighs as she stares at their conversation. What more can she say?

_**Elsa**: You're right._

She gets up to turn in for the night, but another ping catches her attention.

_**Punz**: but also just text her if u really want you dummy_

Flopping onto the bed with her phone in hand, Elsa shuffles a list of greetings in her head to text Maren. In reality, she's concerned (again) about disturbing her. Suddenly being apart caught Elsa off guard.

Another ping breaks her train of thought. She doesn't expect to see Maren's name instead of Punz, and it gives her enough heart palpitations to sit up and collect herself. She smiles when she sees her message, bringing warmth to her cheeks.

_**Maren**: u miss me dont u lol_

_**Elsa**:_ 😒

_**Maren**: _😛_ why are u still up?_

_I was waiting for you._

_**Maren**: I know why. You were waiting for me _😌

_**Elsa**: ...I don't like it_

_**Maren**: huh?_

_**Elsa**: I don't like how you can always read my mind_

_Maren is typing…_

Elsa stares at the ellipses. They disappear only to return, faltering for a couple more seconds.

_**Maren**:_ 😎

Elsa frowns.

_**Maren**: I gtg soon, we're grabbing dinner_

_**Maren**: Go to sleep. Ur gonna catch a cold again_

_**Maren**: Whats our time diff?_

_**Elsa**: I'm 3 hours ahead._

_**Maren**: Ok~_

_**Maren**: dw ill text and send lots of pics until im back_ 😄

_**Elsa**: dw?_

_**Maren**: …dont worry_ 😂

Elsa wraps the duvet around her. She huddles closer, faintly catching the scent of tangerine. Another of Maren's favorites.

_**Elsa**: I'll ttyl then_

_**Elsa**: Goodnight!_

_**Maren**: Night_ 💕

* * *

For once, Elsa took the subway to work.

Despite growing up in a buzzing metropolis, Elsa doesn't do well in crowds. She knows her way around the subway from her high school and college years, but it never solved her claustrophobia. She's lucky that Corona High is located outside the city center; it's a forty-minute drive in traffic, and the subway track isn't any faster either.

Ahtohallan Studio is a different story. Since it's near the heart of the city, taking the subway would save thirty minutes of her time. It's surrounded by a myriad of world-famous studios and theaters, lined up on streets leading to Aren Square. The crowds stretch as far as the eye can see, the bustling noise trapped by skyscrapers.

She hasn't notified Punz about her visit. It was more of an impulse that came to her in the morning after she read Maren's text about her schedule being intensive. It occurred to her that she knew very little about Maren's training.

So the only thing on Elsa's mind after clocking out was taking the A-line instead of Q, which skips through the stop by her home.

Since she missed the open house the other month, it's her first time seeing Ahtohallan. The studio is in a fifty-story building, sitting on the tenth and eleventh floors. Stepping out the elevator, Elsa recognizes the lush maroon walls from pictures she's seen on Punz's phone. Familiar hip-hop music reverberates in the open rooms as she walks further inside.

It's around six, and there are many people roaming around. Some have already noticed her. They almost tempt Elsa to leave, but her curiosity wins.

Yeah. Only curiosity.

"Are you looking for someone?"

Elsa whips around. "I-I'm looking for Rapunzel. I'm her cousin."

The voice belonged to a shirtless buff guy in sweats, with scruffy blond hair a darker shade than hers. He looks around her age.

"I don't think she's here right now." The blond scratches the back of his head. "Hey, Ryder! Have you seen Punz around?"

"Nope. Who's looking for— oh." Another guy inside a practice room looks at Elsa with recognition, surprising her.

A young girl joins him. "Oh! I know you, you were at the last performance! Oh, sorry, my name's Vaiana. I was in the same group as Maren. You're her boss at her other work, right?"

"Yes, my name's Elsa. Nice to meet you." Elsa gives a polite smile as she takes Vaiana's hand.

"Kristoff and Ryder weren't there that night, but we actually perform with Maren quite a lot. Isn't it so cool she's been chosen?"

"Sorry?" _Get a grip, Elsa._

"You're talking to Maren's biggest fan—ow!" Ryder winces at Vaiana's elbowing. "Did I lie?"

"Well, no, but I just feel super proud and honored, okay?" A giddy tone escapes from Vaiana. "We get to perform with a prodigy, and she's finally getting recognized for it!"

Kristoff places an arm on Vaiana's shoulder. "True enough, Punz has been busy helping her out with collabs. Not enough people know her history of winning international awards. People just moved on in a blink."

"That's because the mainstream doesn't give Uldrans enough chance to stay in the spotlight." Ryder jumps in. "If only her family had allowed her to get the credentials. I mean, she would've qualified to get into any prestigious school. She probably feels pressured over there."

Their chatter continues, but all Elsa hears is the echo of their words, describing a stranger she thought she knew.

* * *

Elsa takes a bite of her chocolate slice. The dizziness of the past few hours dissipates as the sweet and sour of raspberries melt on her tongue, if only for a moment. The rain pours over the window near the bar table she's sitting at, blurring the streets until they match her thoughts.

Her gaze continues to track the droplets sliding down the window when she gets the niggling sense of someone's eyes on her. Turning on her left, she doesn't expect to see a girl, standing beside her. Her strawberry blonde hair is wrapped in a bun, raindrops sprinkled on her fringe, and on the burgundy scarf hiding her freckled face.

Elsa meets her teal eyes. _Anna. _

Anna says nothing, so Elsa breaks the ice. "Anna? Hi."

A blink. "H-hi me?" Anna's eyes grow wide. "Yes—hi—uh," she reaches out a hand, which Elsa bemusedly takes, "I heard you visited the studio—but I wasn't there and, well, considering we haven't met, which is weird because you've been dating my brother for months—anyway, I figured I'd stalk—I mean, catch you here and say. Hi." She lets go of Elsa's hand, her cheeks flushed.

Elsa returns a smile. She knows. The avoidance was obvious, and she's not sure why. Maybe the distance was overwhelming. Anna was only twelve the last time Elsa saw her in person, and it was only a casual greeting.

"Do you want anything?"

"Oh, you don't need to—"

"It's my treat," Elsa calls for a waiter, and Anna orders the same cake as hers. As they settle into their seats, Elsa looks at Anna once more, drawn in. Her features clash with the image of a pigtailed tomboy from Elsa's memory.

"You've grown."

"Oh, um, yeah," Anna tucks her hair. "You haven't changed at all—I mean, in a good way."

"Thank you."

Before silence descends again, Anna starts this time. "Punz is still stuck in a meeting, in case you were wondering. She's been talking to producers all day."

"I heard. The plans with… Maren's trip took some time."

"...yeah."

Elsa feels a shift in the air. What changed? She thinks of another topic. "I don't think I've seen you perform. I've only been to two shows, but I'd love to go to yours."

"It's Punz's idea." Anna plays with the swirls of her cafe latte. "It's better to spread us out in smaller shows like that. Maren and I are her chosen best, after all."

"That's impressive."

"Thanks. Maren is the better one." Anna takes a bite of cake. "And thanks to _you_, she's been looking better lately too."

Elsa swallows her last sip a little too quickly. She faces Anna_._ "I'm sorry, what—"

"It feels like she only cares about herself now," Anna mutters, focused on the raspberry bits she's fiddling with her fork. "I know we're finished—"

_'Finished'? Hang on, does that mean—_

"—but she didn't even tell me about the trip. Or, well, she did, but she was already at the airport."

More people enter the cafe as the night grows darker, the interior lights dimming into a soft yellow. Beneath it, Anna's hair glows fiery, as if she's luminance itself. Elsa can see her perturbed expression, but beyond it, she can sense something more: a spark of passion that can get her to heights as great as Maren's.

Anna looks so young.

"It's not that she only cares about herself." Elsa stirs her half-filled cup of black coffee. "Rather, I think that Maren only has space for herself." She smiles at Anna and sees she now has her full attention. "When you get older and become more confident in yourself, you'll be able to think of someone else's well-being before your own."

Anna flushes and looks down, fidgeting, before looking up at Elsa again. "About what I said, I'm sorry—"

"It's okay. Maren's my friend. I'm just helping her out, that's all."

* * *

Elsa's chat window with Maren is flooded with pictures, punctuated with excited rants. Some feature palm trees outlined by the sunset, some show Maren making silly poses by famous street landmarks, and some taken at Bay Beach, where Maren took selfies with other girls nearby.

She's glad Maren has the time to unwind in the middle of her schedule, but something about the last set of images is bugging her. Nonetheless, she chucks the irritation away, refusing to brood over it.

_**Elsa**: I visited your studio yesterday. Met Ryder, Vaiana and… this blonde guy._

_**Maren**: That's awesome! You mean Kristoff?_

_**Elsa**: Yeah, that was his name._

_**Elsa**: I also saw Anna for the first time in years._

_**Maren**: Oh?_

_**Elsa**: Yeah._

Elsa bites her lip.

_**Elsa**: I didn't know you dated her._

_Maren is typing…_

Ignoring the fluttering of her heart, Elsa settles for another position on the armchair as she pulls the blanket around her.

_**Maren**:_ 🙀

_**Maren**: yeah for a year_

_Pang._

_**Maren**: did she say anything else?_

_**Elsa**: She knows you're living with me_

_**Elsa**: I'm assuming you've told others too._

_**Elsa**: I'm not mad. But it's still better to be careful._

_Maren is typing…_

Elsa hopes she's not coming off bitchy. Is she?

_**Maren**: I know :)_

_**Maren**: And don't worry, I've only told Ryder. He's a good person, he's like a brother to me_

_Maren is typing…_

Elsa lets out a small sigh, but something else is nagging her.

_**Maren**: And about Anna_

_**Maren**: I know her_

_**Maren**: She's not the type of person who would start rumors_

_**Maren**: I don't think she'd even tell Hans, far from it_

_**Maren**: So don't worry ok? _

It should have relieved Elsa's concerns. The truth is she was not that worried; she's become lenient about people finding out about their situation, as long as it wasn't anyone who would use it against them. Besides, it's hard for Elsa to see Anna doing something that absurd after their brief encounter.

There _is _something else she wants to ask, but she's afraid it will lead to a new question, and then another—until she realizes she can't solve the puzzle that is Maren. Because the more she looks for the pieces, the further Maren drifts, and it's like having a sad dream, where you keep walking and never reach your destination.

It stings every time she finds a piece and picks it up; if she puts them all into place, would she have it in her to look away from the emerging picture?

For now, it's enough for Elsa to peruse the few pieces she has found—no, it _should _be enough. If she finds more on her way, then so be it. She will keep them close to her heart just the same.

_**Elsa**: Okay._ 😊

* * *

Exam periods are stressful for the teachers, too. They swamp Elsa with a workload that spills over to her weeknights, which is common around semester finals. It doesn't help that she's taken over some assessments for the junior year while also preparing for the next semester's syllabus.

Never mind that she has been sleep-deprived for the past week.

She doesn't mind the extra work. Maren's messages have been sparse. Her replies were sometimes too late, which Elsa expected. Maren sent her a snapshot of her routine, which runs until eleven in the evening. She explained the workshops to feed Elsa's interest; they all looked intensive, so Elsa took Ryder's words to heart and hoped that learning more about Maren's craft would ease or distract her from the pressure.

_Back to work. _The sleepless nights are backfiring on her. Elsa has a stiff neck on top of the irritation and pent-up stress, and she almost lost her temper at Miss White, which hasn't happened in a while. She trudges through her day, tired eyes boring into paperwork, frequently straying to her computer's clock.

Five hours until Maren comes home.

Before Elsa knows it, it's time to clock out. She's on her feet, slipping into her coat as she hastily packs up. It's Friday night so the traffic is horrendous, but she tries to relax by going through her mental cookbook. Would Maren be fine with some steamed fish or stewed beef? Or would she prefer a bowl of simple omelet rice and meatballs? Should they put on a movie while they eat the mango ice cream she promised to preserve until Maren returns?

Or maybe Maren is too tired to do anything, and she will cling to Elsa like always. Maybe she'll snake her way into Elsa's lap and whine about her day, her silky brown locks begging to be unraveled by Elsa's fingers as they both stay in serenity.

Elsa's fine with that, too.

She arrives home, numb from the fatigue of her day as she scurries about tidying the apartment. She prepares soup and chicken, which should be a perfect warmer for tonight's cold and rainy weather.

As the soup simmers down, her phone vibrates in her pocket. Elsa takes it in a beat.

_**Maren**: My arrival is delayed_ 😭

Her heart sinks in disappointment.

_**Maren**: by maybe 3 or 4h_

_**Maren**: stopover issues_

_**Maren**: im using wifi btw_

_**Maren**: might die again cos it kinda sucks_

_**Maren**: but you know who else might die_

_**Maren**: me_

_**Maren**: cos I miss you _

_**Maren**: and I wanna see you now_

_Dummy._

_**Maren**: but donut fret_

_**Elsa**: do not*_

_**Maren**: donut ruin it!_ 😾

_**Maren**: I'll be home soon_ 💙

Elsa can only think of one reply.

_**Elsa**: I'll wait for you._

And she will because it's her turn. The nights Maren stayed up when Elsa was out late, whether it was on a date with Hans, or when her defenses were down from the pull of alcohol—Maren always greeted her at the door or caught her when she stumbled. She always enveloped her in a warmth that allows her to breathe again.

It's the least she can do.

* * *

Later that night, Elsa wakes up in pitch blackness. The last thing she remembers was climbing up the loft to replace Maren's blankets, which she now finds herself wrapped in. In front of her, she sees the soft outline of a figure.

_Maren?_ _A dream?_

Elsa doesn't want to find out not when she has barely slept in the past week. She pulls Maren into her blanket, almost as if she _is_ there with her; and her heart swells, filling up her entire chest as she holds her closer.

Besides, if this is a dream, why wake up now?


End file.
